there’s a shadow against the wall
at the end of the hall
near the dining room door.
It stands there in the moonlight
it hovers there when the sun comes up
it doesn’t move an inch when when the floor creaks
and the doors in the hall swing open inch by inch.
I watch it like a hawk
I dare it to move
and sometimes I think it’s going to make a run for it
or maybe even scream.
The shadow stops and says
as calm as it can,
” Ghosts aren’t real. “
and I say, ” Yes I am. “