whets itself on the well loved dark and stormy night
As the September candle, all shades of flame
dim and recede in the rearview mirror.
Shivering in a porch chair
October in my hair,
a breeze that finds a way to spell out how goosebumps feel
on the nape of my neck.
New moon no light dark sky mystery rebound
from sane to scared senseless and back again
Bogeyman briar patch of wondering
Who is out there in the dark
Imagination running riot
The sounds of a creak on the stairs
Amplified by the calendar creep
And an inability to sleep
Without the covers pulled tight
To my chin.