The Passing

Silent, the house is Still, the creatures are And yet I hear her And I see her There is no light, but she drifts by in a glow Her hair flows behind, casting shadows on my door She makes no sound, but I know she's walking Her feet making imaginary creaks on the floorboards I am frightened, though she says not to be. I sometimes look for her, but she finds me instead. The wind is her arms and her eyes bury into my neck The quiet fills my ears like thousands of words Words of reassuring, words of threats One day, I'll have enough. One day, I will be gone. One day, she will pass by and I won't be there.