Snow

I wake up screaming

Pretty typical, really

Two hours into sleep, six AM

She calms me

Gets me off the floor

Back into bed

And reassures me oddly

That it’s snowing

Throw it open

Throw it open

I say

And in the dark

The moon reflects

Into the room

And I smile

What?

What?

You’ve gotta play hooky

Of course the roads are clear by morning

And I am not as cocksure as I am in dreams

Still

It beats giant, ravenous murderers

Who want my soul