Thru the Attic Window
By John Herlihy

When I turned ten years old,
At an age that can be a little traumatic,
I moved into the abandoned room in the attic.
The slanted roof had nooks and crannies,
The shadows at night suggested ghosts and gloom.
If they invaded, it would lead to my impending doom.

At first, I felt a little uncomfortable on my own;
My brother and I had slept in a bedroom downstairs.
In winter, when we slipped under the covers of night,
My brother told me big boy stories that gave me a fright.
He whispered scary, exaggerated stories about savage lairs,
Wild animals with yellow eyes and black, bristly hairs.

The ghosts and ghouls never did come to visit.
Even if they did, I would have asked: What is it?
Childhood fears have a life that is taken as implicit.
After an initial few nights attempting to feel brave,
I just lay there quietly missing my brother, Dave,
Who joined the army to fight a war, the world to save.

With no real need of saving, I soon came into my own.
When I looked out the attic window, I knew I wasn’t alone.
A promenade of stars extended across the night sky,
Offering an escape into a world not seen in the day’s eye.
Mother’s knitted blanket kept me warm from winter chill,
The blanket long since gone, but I remember it still.

Gazing thru the attic window, the room soon fell away.
With eyes opened wide, my imagination came into play.
I knew well enough the glorious world that embraced me;
I was also becoming familiar with a spirit world inside me.
But what I saw in the night sky was something else entirely,
A world of my imagination I never actually thought to see.

Those magic stars simply fell into the pond in the garden;
They did what they wanted without any need of pardon.
The moonlight lit up pillow clouds that moved in the night.
Who needs ghosts and goblins when angels appear in flight.
The texture of light in the dark heavens a luminous array.
Now on my own, the world of night entered to take me away.