Awake, at night while others sleep,
He watches the creepy crawly things, nocturnal creatures who come to greet him.
In the bed, there was no refuge when critters roamed freely greeting the quiet with their needy nibbles.
In the morning, more of the same lurking about him. He crushed those he caught hitting them wacky, wackity, wack.
Outside there was less to fight than in. He goes to the front porch, closing his eyes, he rests.
© Exposed Loving, 2016