Spirits on the wind and skeleton keys

Photo by Jasmine Rain Hyder

spirits on the wind and with a noise —

Annette Marie Hyder

like knuckle bones rattling in a tin cup
like shivers written with silver music —
comes the rain against the pane

while each windy wail huffs like hot breath
leaving condensation on blurred windows
(the eyes of the house are clogged with tears)

the clouds, dark hood, hang over the building’s head
and chill is a skeleton key
that can open any door
(hinges creak and loose boards tremble in this downpour)

but the heart of the home glows —
every light in the place turned on —
and matches strike a ready pose

in case candle cannon is called for
to blast away darkness when electricity fails
in such a tempest onslaught of bad-dream-storm

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