By Crystal Arbogast

As I stepped out my door and peeked at the night
A sound rushed to me, yet, brushed through me
The tingling stayed with me as its sound carried off
And I shivered at the intrusion as it passed by

I tried to recall the words after my name
That tossed on the wind up into the dark
And could not make out the message
I supposed was meant for me

Sometimes I stand cautiously under the stars
With courage I have mustered because I must know
Who it was that spoke my name
And did not linger, but swept away

The night is filled with whispers
Soft messages for those to hear
Sometimes I wonder if there are others
That peeks carefully into the night