The house creaked

from creeping feet

and the walls shook

with their roars and weight.

 

The windows rattled

from nails and tails

tapping to be let inside.

 

The ceiling dripped

with monster spit

and the attic whistled

from impatient huffs.

 

Mother said it’s just a storm.

Father said it’ll be gone in the morning.

Grandma said monsters only eat worms.

 

But tell that to Brother

taken by the “storm.”