It Is Dark Out There

There is darkness in this room
a candle would give comfort.
Scratching comes from somewhere,
through the wooden floor boards
an intruder tries to break in.
A feathered owl hoots in low tones,
perched somewhere
as I peek out of curtains.
It is dark out there,
a little flicker of flash
displays the scene momentarily.
A whiteness -
a hill -
a fire fox -
black.

I nestle, struggling to sleep,
outside animals crawl
on bellies battling with ghosts
that have survived for centuries.

Banshees wail, screech, and
then flitter past window
while I lie tortured by past
and unseen future.

This room is cold
blankets only
bandage the heart
as little noises
increase the fear.