Hit And Quit Poem by Kitty Marie Lucas

the aberrant cormorant
was nothing that he seemed
singing coarsely, oh-so-hoarsely,
"life is but a dream."

and dream he does, of ones he loved;
as he forgets when waking,
the slumber is a memory his fearful mind is making.

no sleep for nights, his terrified
heart howls as the wind,
tracing as it's going
tombstones he can't rescind.

the shriek and wail tell the tale
of those he instructed,
then buried in sour dirt of the graveyard constructed.

as the trees scratch, cold and mean,
against the windowpane,
he awakens; he is shaken,
and flees the room in vain.

safety in numbers
interrupts his slumber.
to himself he lied,
now numbers haunt and terrify.