As She Slept
an abecedarian poem
As she slept Birds chirped outside her Curtained window, singing Delightful tunes she listened to Entirely in her dreams. For waking early wasn’t for this Girl. Instead, she slept late because Her demons kept her up well Into the night, only disappearing Just after 6 am as daybreak threatened. Specters Kneeled at her bedside or circled the room, avoiding Light, of any kind, even from the Moon. The spirits always appeared, Never missing a single night of torment. Over the years, she became used to the Phantoms, but never comfortable enough to lower the Quilt laying over her in bed, created with Reused fabrics from her childhood things Stitched together lovingly by her grandmother, To offer warmth in only temperature, although it has proved Useful in keeping the spirits at bay, causing the spiritual Vultures to soar backwards if they came in contact With the pieces of stuffed animals sewn into her quilt. Still, she holds a Xyster for protection, a surgical instrument found at a flea market, which Yes, could be useful against humans, but does Zero harm to a phantom of the night.
Hope you enjoyed my first abecedarian poem!
I personally love the idea of phantoms, spirits, ghosts — whatever you prefer to call them. It fascinates me to think of all the things in this world that may exist but of which we really can’t be sure.
If you liked this poem, here are a few others you may enjoy:
Thanks for reading!
© Katie Rodante 2020
Katie Rodante is a writer living in sunny Dallas, Texas with her loving husband, two wild young children, and a lazy maltese. While she began her career as a paralegal, she found her passion is in creative fiction. Her works include a poetry book of Halloween haiku titled Autumn Reveries, several short stories, and two in-progress novels: a women’s fiction novel about love and loss, and a fantasy series involving wizards and music. Connect with me on Twitter, Instagram, and sign up for my newsletter which explores the intersection of creativity and intentional living.
