My back aches to hear 
the sound of the squeeky brakes
that sound outside my door
my mind races to the old folk lore 
that was taught to me so long 
ago, many ing the form of a song, 
and have passed out of my memory
(at least for the telling of this story)
A car door slams 
and a heavy fist rams 
into the flat surface of my door
and rumbles onto the cold hard floor
the sound of voices penetrate 
none that I can now imitate
for they were all at once, even
though there was only one heathen
on steps in front of my door
and the voices sounded as water on the shore
unfortunatly, they did not calm my nerves
and as my memory serves 
they all had a hint of murder about
them that made the depth of my heart want to shout
to the heathen that was trying the handle of the door
and my breath shortened a lot more than before
when the hinges creeked
and the heathen's face peeked 
around the opening 
and the voices came howling.   

7:25 PM 9/26/04