Screen Door
Night is knocking at my screen door... Her cold bony fingers scratching against the scarred wood. Reminding me again that she's still out there. Waiting... I see her frigid face staring back at me. Her icy breath fogging my windows. She motions me to come hither, I smile and wave and mouth to her, "It's not time for me to play." As I lay down to sleep and dream, I hear the sharp slap of the screen door and the weeping of the night.