That Thing
Jumping, bumping in the night,
Jumping, bumping in the night,
Thrashing, gnashing, poised to bite.
Your every
muscle’s tensed in fright
and you cannot avoid its sight.
As to what it is, I have no clue.
But you thought of something, didn’t you.
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I was tired, and I felt like blogging. I apologize.
In an attempt to save or at least slightly brighten this post, I am including below a little gem from the magnificent Emily Dickinson. From what I've read of her work, this is my personal favorite piece.
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I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us--don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.
How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!
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I like to think we would have been friends, Emily and I.
