I had forgotten the time of year—

Where the air grows colder,

And the month bleeds fear.

Only to be subtly reminded by the floorboard’s beholder:

The lamp by the curtain

Shined bright against the angry sky,

That, as I left, I am certain.

Only to rediscover upon returning, something sly;

The room was dark and grim.

Now I have two voices in my ear,

One is reason, and the other, my mind’s hymn.

They do say imagination is powered by the things that remain unclear.

Photo by Beazy on Unsplash