Fear
is a
bare
branch
growing outside
my window.

I am afraid
to be alone.
Without leaves
to shelter me,
I shiver in the dark.

It is night
and I wonder
What creatures lurk
Outside.
Is the boogie-man
hiding in the shadows?

Will the sun rise
Once it seems to have set
For the very last time
in the dead of Winter?

Will spring be coming
Growing leaves
that will accompany me
While I hopscotch?

I am afraid to stop writing
To stop thinking
To pull down my shade
and leave the bare branch
on the lone tree in the yard
Deserted.