There's
a strangeness in the air.
It's
almost undetectable; but it's there.
It's
in the tint of the fall light,
It’s
a murmur in the night.
You
can feel it crawling up your spine,
Your
hair stands up like a sign.
A
primordial sense of feeling
That
at night, sets you thinking.
Tossing,
turning as it comes stealing,
Into
your dreams and leaves you reeling.
It's
a warning to beware,
This
strangeness in the air.
If
you choose not to heed its warning,
You
might wake up one sunny morning.
To
find all you loved and cherished gone,
To
the strange before the dawn.
Copyright 2001 © Ronald W. Hull
11/4/01