Poem for Creative Writing

Runaway Imagination
Sissy’s gone again, off to a sleepover
And it’s extra dark in this room – alone
The wind howls outside the window
And the tree branch scrapes the glass,
Trying to claw its way in

Is it a branch?
Or is it the sharp claws of a bear,
So hungry it’d be willing to eat
My scrawny body
Just for the taste?

Maybe it’s not the wind howling
But wolves from the hills
They probably want to come in my house –
It’s warm but maybe not safe
The howling is louder

And the scratching!
The bear must be huge
His paws the size of mother’s waffle iron
And just as dangerous.
I go deep in the covers

Something is coming up the stairs!
The bear?
No, it’s still scratching.
The wolves?
No, they’re still howling
Footsteps creep closer
There’s a shadow in my room!
My covers don’t seem thick enough
Those horrible claws will slice right through
I will be that bear’s snack

Will he share?
Will the wolves get a piece of me too?
A toe, or an ear?
They’ll want more,
But the bear sounds greedy

There’s a paw on my covers!
They’ve found me!
I’ll be chewed up and swallowed
In a matter of seconds.
The howling is all around me

It’s not a paw!
It’s a hand – Sissy’s hand!
“I missed you,” she says.
I cry with relief
Not a bear, not the wolves, Sissy.

Sissy’s in her bed,
I’m in mine
The room is dark, but not scary
The tree gently brushes my window
And the wind sings good night.