Courier

It’s dark, it’s crispy, your nerves feel wispy
As you walk out into the night
You don’t wish to go, it’s the night of the fright,
But the cupboard is bare so it is that you dare
Walk out to the gate to meet the Courier.

The courier’s coming, he’s bringing it with
And you cannot live without.
The clouds are low-ering low this night
And they swirl about your boots as you creep
Step by crackling step on the crystallized soil.

It’s only about nine more steps to the gate–
You know the way by rote
The air is so still yet it fizzes like gin
And you cannot stop your trembling chin
From revealing the fright that you feel.

And it doesn’t help that you hear the skelp*
Or the courier’s carriage wheels on the stones.
A shiver o’ertakes your frail little body
And it’s all you can do not to flee.
But you wait ’cause you owe him the fee.

You melt into the shadow of the creaky old gate
As sparks fly up at your face from the hooves
Of the nightmare steed and the steely wheels
Of the carriage of the devil’s own courier,
Who flies like a bat in one feel swoop to the gate.

One thousand flint stones he demands in a tone
So threatening your sweat freezes on your chest
And with trembling thin hands you hand him the pouch
Which he snatches like a hungry old wolf
Through worried wrought iron bars of the gate.

With a cackle of glee but no thanks to thee,
He flings the gunny-sacked parcel over the gate.
No time for to hate, you unstick your feet from the cobble
And you hobble as quick as you might
To catch the prize that’s riding inside of the sack.

With a nervous look back you witness the flash
Of the courier’s wheels on the stones,
And you hobble back home to your bare-walled hovel
Where you normally sit to write your novel–
And cautiously open the sack.

Sitting there patiently within, the neck all cover in blood,
Is your head. Your eyes look up at your ragged neck
Where the goblins had torn it asunder. You take up your head
And place it onto your neck, and no longer must you roam around dead.
Now you go out to hunt for your food. Hello YOU. BOO!

— —

*Move at great speed – intransitive verb – to hustle along quickly and energetically

CREDIT: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Child_ghost.jpg