In something of a chaotic stupor,
the Moon tells me
(among other things)
to be nice to people
because you can never know
what they're going through,
if you'll ever see them again-
or if you're the last person they'll ever see.
So,
you may as well practice kindness
with every being you meet
no matter for how long.

You never quite know.
You just might make someone's day.
You just might save someone's life.

Worst case scenario, you're being nice,
and that's not really so bad, after all.

Out there in every tree
Each and every leaf a face
Watching, waiting
Judging my every thought
And there, deeper out back
Watchers clad in camouflage
I gear up knife in hand
I approach them where they stand
With my snow dog companions
As brave as I am they disappear
Not even a footprint in the snow

There under the door
A shadow passes
Yet I am here alone
I search the back room closets
Under each bed
Checking the locks on each window
Where in the hell did that shadow go
What do they want with me

I attempt to lay down to sleep
But the shadows of unrest
Swerve and swirl around me
Images appear in the darkened mirror
Upon the dresser without blinking
I stare waiting for my ******
To slowly close the veil
Between the worlds