Dark Walk Home

Silhouette in headlights
show horns that aren’t there.
The ghost of a scream
from an engine in pain,
the distance to home
down dark winding lane,
the night when I feel most afraid.

Boots on the pavement
beat rhythms in time.
The wind whistles cold
chilling straight to the bone,
invisible voices
making me feel alone,
the moon shows a path with its shine.

The shadowing presence
that’s tracking my way.
Not daring to look
for fear of revealing,
sure that a demon
with offer appealing
will drag me to worlds far away.

Is it breath on my neck
or the whistling breeze?
The chill on my skin
that raises my hairs,
the growl of a voice
that may not be there,
the sounds that cause my blood to freeze.

Arriving at home and the
doorway well lit.
Comfort now reached
from the following night,
into the warmth
and welcoming light,
darkness now left far behind….. or is it?