Soft footsteps of the elephant’s cement shoes.
Foreboding fills the air.
Going downstairs to escape is not an option.
Take a deep breath and just breathe.
The terror child comes down the stairs.
I greet her and smile as she tells me she is hungry.
My brain rewires itself and I have to remind myself
She is not a terror.
My brain is playing tricks on me again.
Saturn's Premier Poet 