Loose boards cracked and banged.
Swallows twittered as they flew in and out.
The horses nuzzled me searchingly.
The interior of the barn was ghostly dark.
Outside was a grayish dawn.
I was there for my predawn chores;
I, a skinny youth of ten.
All was right with the world
except I heard spirits in the dark.
Were they vagrants lurking?
My heart would stop and I would freeze.
Maybe they didn’t hear me.
I listened intently.
Now they were deathly quiet.
I sighted the nearest pitchfork just in case.
Suddenly I saw the light
that maybe the city folk can’t see.
We all find ourselves in dark, scary places;
we walk in the light of day
to find our way.
(c) 2017 Larry Kilham