Winter Spirits
written by: Alan Hardy
In the darkened street below filled with snow
lamps cast a festive glow.
I sleep with the bedroom door open.
I used to jam a chair against it
to keep out the horrors,
the figure who walks the stairs at night,
whose face is that of a scowling demon,
who pauses by my door, waiting, before moving on.
Chatter and laughter come from below
as bands of friends and couples hand in hand
saunter merrily through the garlanded street.
Fearsome shadows glide into my room,
grotesque shapes twist and turn their way
through and around tables and cabinets
to enter my body and possess my mind.
I have no power to stop them.
Downstairs in my house
a Christmas tree flashes an array of lights.
When sleep places its hand on my brow,
I will see nothing, hear nothing.
The spirits will be my masters.
In the bright, breezy morning I will awake,
or lie in eternal darkness.
- Winter Spirits - December 1, 2025
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- Blind Love - February 21, 2025
