She whispered me her nightmare
Crouched in the quiet of the dark
She said
A man-sized cat came out of the garden
And the dirt behind the bushes
Had shifted and lifted up to
Cover her tiny mouth.
Her dark eyes were moon-like
As she clutched my hand
Too hard
And spoke her tale of dread
Of animals not being what they should
And the dirt doing what it could
To cut her voice dead.
My own eyes looked up and out
Beyond the window to the trees
To catch
Signs of the dream in her head
Of lurking feline giant shapes
And murderous soil creeping up
To kill us in our beds.
I whispered softly to my love
It was only a movie in your mind
Not real
Then I signed away her final fears
And sang a song she could not hear
About night-time cats now sleeping
And the garden dirt forever still.
moderate-severe/profound... quirky 