The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Fright

uhhhhh-ooooh I see you! I see you!
silkily sliding the storm window
creeping inside, coming for me.

Does anyone else see it moved?
I'm not alone
in my childhood bedroom
frozen in fright.

There were no eyes on the 
black, relentless torso
unheeding my cry to flee,
steathily intruding upon me.

Defenseless, I lay
lipless I yell at the shadow -
a crescendo of panic until
I wake
with the echo in my ear
that my dream was not
silent.

Hairs shiver down my back
swarms of intensity shuffle
up and down my spine -
I can't shake this.

I toss, processing the uncontrollable
imagining the remotely impossible
listening for a pin drop to shout at,
to frighten away the boogeyman.

I sit up to avoid an encore,
stumble from a 5:30 bed,
I light up to wake myself,
and shake off the what-if.

What's this inside me that cries out?
Who would endeavor to harm me?
the fridge creaks
as I scribble down
the poet's questions.
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©2009 Mark Daniel Milbocker  All rights reserved.