naked tail flicks, thrashes,
whisker-twitch, nail-click down the clock -
huge, grey-haired body bullets toward me,
its echo follows close behind.
I tense, then roll over
This is a post about a nightmare and its resolution for IGRT. I don't often have nightmares, but being the good little toad that I am, I had a delightfully creepy one last night about rats. I think woke to find that the squeaking was actually the very insistent early birds outside my bedroom window. Oh, and this poem is called a rictameter, marked by the syllable count per line of 2/4/6/8/10/8/6/4/2. Images by: Rat - retrojunk.com, birds - metrolic.com