the handle of the screen door

i grab hold as the sun set tries to hide

mischievously laughing ...almost infantile

the shadows join in
with peeks and the boos...

their darkness anything but frightening

as i enter my home
summer's reflection astonishes me


awe me..
reflections off of anything that shimmers

the sun plays for the last time this day

i draw my curtains on another day...

the only light allowed is light that i control

my feet now slide and slip on the showers suds

an owl now asks ,WHO is listening to its own idle chatter

by the wolf howling moonlight,

WHO is merely assumptions

crickets sing almost to fill the void of any silence

i awaken with a lullaby by birds...
birds that coo and ease my ill fading soul...

the song i yearn when i grab the handle of the screen door