Shadows and light,
where the light is a blade in the night.
Fearing the beast,
it’s ready to serve you as feast.
Roving death that claws and bites,
waiting after your last “goodnight.”
Predators roam the depths,
they roam the woods,
and they roam the streets, too,
and if you aren’t careful
there’s one in the room with you.
©October 2016, Christina Anne Hawthorne