Shutters and Snakes

It’s too close to Halloween not to post at least one spooky poem.

Dark Heart

The wind,
as softly
as snakes,

slips through
the green shutters
where ivy

prys
the wood screws
from the shingles

so the shutters
rattle, chasing
a frightened

boy, coiled
about his pillow,
deeper

beneath his covers
into the dark heart
of his sleep.

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