Would I Scream

I am driving to school in the dark this morning Skinny bare branches moving ominously over my car get my attention What if they were not branches, but a dead man’s hands? I visualize him hanging by his feet, ropes tied around his ankles His gaping wide mouth terrorizes me as I think of his anguish If his fingers grazed the top of my windshield, would I scream? Where do you get this stuff? Trixie, my opinionated muse asks. I stick my tongue out at her. We have that kind of relationship.