Shadow Poem by Ian Bowen

A silhouette of a shadow
sidles through your open doorway,
making itself comfortable
in its chosen, dark corner.

Now, it will watch your every move,
play games with your stability;
slamming doors and creaking board,
will haunt you as you look for a lost sock.
Your dog will stare and growl at nothing.

Beware now, for revenge is possible,
even after death.
Your visitor has come to stay,
and by the way...your sock...

is in the attic.