Across the Hall
Chandra Johnson

The dog of imagination
Strained its leash all my
Childhood nights. And safety
Miles across the hall.

Awakened by some shout of sky
Or shadow play, my nightmares haunted
Even the blanket sanctuary over my head
Until childish ambition drove my feet to the cold floor.

Now regret, now exposed,
The bed as dangerous as the darkness ahead,
I stood frozen as the room, familliar in daylight's clothes,
Became before my eyes a realm of ebony:
A den where unspoken fears awaited discovery.

No longer the morning's laundry,
But the most humbling semblance of
A great anaconda
Laid in tense coil, the glass eyes
Piercing the dark where I stood blind but well aware
Of the dry scrape of scale against scale.

Fear-inspired courage
Filled my legs with a run
Until I teetered on the edge of the chasm
Which that morning was a hallway.

My father's fallen work boots
Surprised me as the copper zippers
Assumed crocodile grins
And dark intentions from the stairway.