Glass eyes follow you around the room.
A cuckoo clock sounds midnight.
Terror fills you and you
Wake to shadows.

The lid is opened and
I spring forth, twirling
And spinning to the sound of
Dainty music in the background.
My dance is cut short, the lid is shut.
The bauble is chosen.

The acrobat on the tightrope
Teeters with each step.
There is no net.
The crowd gasps.

A crystalline echo
Reverberates off the canyon walls.
No one hears the screams.

An incandescent butterfly
Flutters over a log in the twilight.
A night owl swoops from on high
And devours it as day gives way to night.
The meadow is silent.