And shadows pass
Like a cat
Upon the stairs
You stifle
A small laugh
And say there’s
Nothing there
Dark recesses
And alcoves
Harbor
Troubling thoughts
While outside
November rains
Thrum
Like ticking clocks
It’s hard to say
What prompts these thoughts
Perhaps the rain
Or wintry draughts
Or perhaps the answer's
Something else—
Fear of being
By myself