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Creature
April 16, 2009
They come out when the days are
short
Stumble across the cracked cement ground
in the sharpness of night
scratch
critters scurry beneath
bed frames
When the dark is long
and the yellow-green chatter of their
children rocks the cradle to
wake
They will come for salty tears
through the syrup in the cleavage of that doorway
dripping
candlewax melting
onto their bodies
sealed
they are burned into your mind
before you even open your eyes.
© Jon G., Bethesda, MD
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