The Thing on the Stair
Autumn brings It
Rustles in amongst the leaves
They still themselves before It
Still, the rustle
On the stone
Up the stair
You felt Its presence
On the air
Caressed your brow
As you climbed
Drawing forth
The poisoned thought
It formed it raw
You formed it first
And gently
Took your hand
And dragged you
On the stone
Down the stair
Autumn brings It
On the air
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Other stories by Wesley Baines
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Something wicked... *
My skin crawls with the familiarity of what is left unsaid. *
I like this
* Excellent.
Thank you. I really appreciate all of your comments! I'm trying to get back into creative writing after a long absence, and you all have really encouraged me in that regard.
Love the chill of it.