Friday, April 06, 2007

#348: April 6, 2007

The day after we moved, we heard the screams
and voices start behind the cellar door.
Stored boxes disappeared; we had bad dreams.
That's why we don't go down there anymore.

The scratching in the attic gave us pause.
Raccoons or rats, we thought; one way to tell.
We found the rafters gouged by phantom claws.
That's why we've shut the attic up as well.

The laughter in our bedrooms drove us out;
the kitchen poltergeist broke all our plates.
Dead children singing--what's that all about?
We hear them all night long through heating grates.

That's why we're out here huddled on the porch,
wishing for peace and quiet--or a torch.

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