Gentle steps that pad up the stairs;
Thoughtfully soft and
hushed by the hands
of midnight,
So none might
hear him advance.
But he moves with such care
That no one
but you
Would know that he’s there.

He’s on the landing now,
Creeping closer to your door
But the cautious clock
is ticking him off, so he stops
before your doorway and drops
his big bag of darkness
(that’s squirming and restless
to swallow you whole);
Then he inhales the soul
of the tick and the tock.

Now there’s nothing left
But your heart and his breath
so you know this time it is true:
That the bogeyman is in
your room
your dreams
your head
your bed
For tonight, he’s coming
for you.