SCRATCH
A scratch, a scratch, upon my door
Old dog snoring, fat cat sleeps
Something out there wants, implores
Incessant racket—no relief
Alone with these ungodly sounds
I tremble as my fears unbound
Not cat, nor dog, can sense or hear
The scratches, scratching that I fear
Some otherworldly beast seeks entry
To the essence of my very soul
I, in turn, must stand as sentry
Lest spasms of fear take their toll
Scrathes dig deeper, louder still
Draw me to it against my will
Tentively, I reach for the lock
No! My mind reaches out to block
The sublimnal urge to heed the call
Of the scratching, scratching at my door
Quaking, leaning back against the wall
I smell fetid odors of evil’s spoor
Lured seductively, I lift the latch
Succumbing to the horrific task
To confront a terror that knows no match
It’s two feet tall and wears a mask!
Night sky lit by blood-red moon
Face to face with an irate raccoon!
Its beady eyes reflect a glare
Unafraid, it stands tall and stares
I draw a breath, deep with relief
Twas just a critter gave me grief
Yet nights may come; how soon, how near?
When it returns to refuel my fear
And the hideous scratch upon my door
No longer animal—so much more
The coon dashes off across the lawn
Innocent creature, perhaps. . .
Mayhap, the devil’s spawn
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