As occasional insomniacs may know
There are certain sounds that only occur past midnight
When everything is still
They awaken…
Scuttling and skittering
along hardwood floors
Crackling, creaking
the sounds of a settling house
Tapping, rapping
from inside the walls
the sudden rush of motion
on a deserted street
someone’s chasing
always chasing
no time for sleep
Then you, enveloped in starlight
You entangled in sheets
Maybe hidden under your duvet
Maybe staring out your window
into the night