Dusk

Dusk can be a happy time for some people. For me, it always felt more like this.

In the orange-green light
Of summer dusk
The unrelenting buzz
Of the locusts

Taunting

The screaming laughs
Of neighborhood children

Teasing

Hands ache
To pull my hair
To cover my ears
To beat the walls
Of my summer prison

Locusts buzz
Building speed
Louder and closer
Closer and louder

The laughs no more the sound
Of children
But the sadistic chatter
Of demons
The dangerous shadows
Of the little girl cell
Crawling
Threaten to suffocate
Can’t breathe
In the sulfur colored dusk

Locusts buzzing
Children screaming
Shadows choking