Poetry About Monsters

In claws drawn beyond the bedroom door, monsters finds a visible shape. A shadow enlarged by the night lamp carries what ordinary speech leaves unfinished. Between scales glittering in an old tale and the human face beneath the mask, the heart learns to listen. Imagined creatures often borrow the hungers we refuse to name, though the day rarely says so aloud. By night, fear shrinking when morning arrives becomes a promise rather than an ending.

A shadow enlarged by the night lamp enters the poem first. Monsters follows, neither symbol nor explanation, but weather. The human face beneath the mask keeps the difficult measure. We stand near claws drawn beyond the bedroom door and let certainty loosen. Imagined creatures often borrow the hungers we refuse to name. Fear shrinking when morning arrives remains after the room grows quiet.

Someone remembers scales glittering in an old tale. Someone else names claws drawn beyond the bedroom door and means an entire life. Monsters moves between them with patient hands. A shadow enlarged by the night lamp refuses to become only background. Imagined creatures often borrow the hungers we refuse to name. At last, fear shrinking when morning arrives gives the silence somewhere to rest.