It’s rather dark in here,
but don’t go toward the light.
It would be the bright thing
at the end of the hall,
but, just feel along the wall
and you should find your way.
And if along the way you feel
something soft and gooey,
or misty and booey, run like hell.
Ghosts and goblins can tell when it’s dark.
It’s their “Home Field Advantage.”
(C) Walter J. Wojtanik
stumbling over oppressive clouds
with loud crashes, smashes against
pavement and abode. It has turned cold.
Lightning flashes between crashes
interval intrusions, illusions
in the shadows cast. Playing hard
and fast with reality.
Children cower, as hour after hour
persists, insisting it rules the night.
Their fright steals their innocence.
Counting the seconds between
crash and flash, it is hunkered down.
The storm can do no harm
in the safety of arms that protect.
You reject the notion that bumps
in the night are frightening.
You know there is nothing in the dark
that isn’t there in the lightning.
© Walter J Wojtanik, 2019