Reoccurring Dream

The wipporwill's early calling
sounds from the edge
of the deepening woods
other dusk dwelling birds
swoop close to the trees and
then rise swiftly to silhouette themselves
against the midnight blue sky
catching bugs
I suppose

I stare up at the light
disappearing behind the ominous mountains
straining my eyes to find that last
leafy branch
high in a tree
still bathed in the sweet day's light

Across the Androscoggin
who's black waters rush over
granite bedrock
and the souls of families drown
during their Spring crossings
I hear the whine of sixteen-wheelers
speeding around mountain edges
heading west
rushing to catch up with the
withering day
the moaning echos across the valley
bouncing off the sides until it's
swallowed
whole
by the forest surrounding me

The windows of the house
behind me
are black
except for the
last reflection
of the twilight sun
on the attic window's glass
The door is locked
everything packed
and gone
from the kitchen fridge, the beds made
the fires extinguished, shades pulled
against the evil eyes of intruders

the porch is now drowned in
darkness

I barely see
the road, each end of it
disappearing
into an abyss of black
only the slightest breath of orange
teases
from the top of the mountains

I curl
against the cold
and wait