It’s dark now, Brother Sun is so far away.
And I find myself wondering, wind stirring howls,
A particular kind of thought, rain hammering its spray–
Outside slick black concrete and dawn as far as my dreams from day.
In the dark, I’m thinking, blinking
Pondering important things, those scary beings—
Bedroom-closet monsters, under-bed trolls, hobgobblers
Mary’s bloody damn ghost.
Do they sip their coffee, do they gulp their tea?
Loads of cream and sugar? Are they wicked, are they free?
Can’t imagine they indulge too much.
Those fearsome figures, terrible, lumbering,
Hungering,
Tickling this Midnight’s fray.
