Member Poem

Behind a frozen glass window I peer,
but not for long despite the pending thunder,
to spur an inner gnawing  gumption,
I turn a chilly doorknob,
with great stealth born of winters  past,
sleet-ridden gusts, swaying tree leafs,
slippy patch awaits the reckless foot,
a shivering deep down voice whispered,
perils lurk for absent-minded strollers,
caution now encrusted in each limb,
weather warning, weather brave,
the imp within me teetering in jest,
will mine be an ice skater taunt?
As I absorb dark canvasses around  me,
wondrous hint  of moonlit snowflake,
silver white midair droop miracle,
blackbird silhouette on brittle twig,
nearby sudden dart and dash,
from orange-copper feline irises,
their intermittent shrill meow,
a stark punctuation mark,
Did I hear the rustle of a drawn curtain?
actioned by some enigmatic sleeper,
fearful of the hair-raising sound,
from passing traffic at such unearthly hours,
Was I shaken by those flickering lights?
in velvet shadow rooms engulfed by mystery,
yet this somber mood seasonal pantheon,
shall bemuse that haunted house,
that much sought after haunted shelter,
where a mind in nocturnal flight,
might somehow wander unseen.
Second Place Poetry Soup medal winner 2022