Creeping Upstairs

Poem from Misty, 20 January, 1979.

I suddenly hear someone creeping upstairs.
If I hadn’t read ‘Misty’ I wouldn’t be scared,
I throw down the comic on the bed
As under the blankets I hide my head.
Under there I go all numb.
Is it, could it be, only my Mum?
Yes it is, of that I’m sure
As she tiptoes softly through the door.
‘Rachel,’ she whispers, ‘Are you still awake?’
I lie quite still, no notice I take.
‘No, you’re not,’ I hear her say.
Thank goodness, at last she’s gone away.
I close my eyes and count to fifty
To find out when I open them …

Rachel Flemming, Cockermouth, Cumbria

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