home alone

  It’s sleep-stealingly unquiet in here.

        Their laughter ricocheting still…
    Bounding down the hall,

‘Longside their banshee-bickering.
    I feel Lilliput-small again;
        The night-light dour-flickering:

        It shanks a Swift-shifting shadow
    Into the electric bill…
Which I pretend is interesting

    For near a hollow hour.
        Daddies have Brobdingnagian dreams;

  Though so gleams their slightest tear.

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    Poetry: Monekeyshine
        https://windstrewn.com/2018/10/28/monkeyshine/