A square house and a blue sky
Where, at night, the forest breathes
Without end. Children sit in dollhouses
On the edges of suburban sprawl and tell
Horror stories in the yellow light of
Emergency flashlights. Everyone knows
The one about the man in the car, the truck,
The urban legend of lights flickering on
And off, the heightened senses attuned to
Scratches, wind, soft breathing, a joking
Set of knuckles banging on the door.
The darkness has nurtured my fears.
From today’s NaPoWriMo prompt.