Dedication: To the tapping at my bedroom window

A triad of half-rhyming couplets, from a few years back. Still haunts me.


Ugly and as awful as the oak,

Awe-inspiring hangman of the dark.

A certain something rustles in the eaves –

The silent sitter, nothing in the trees.

Teach me, in that language, to refrain

And wait the unquiet hours to the dawn.

This creepy little beauty was actually dedicated to a friend of mine from college. It’s the mixture of patience and anticipation which I love the most. 

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