Tangles

The moon, thatched by branches,
cowered in the fleeting light,
morning - just a blink away.
My lips parted, eyes widened,
stared at silhouettes
that seemed to glide silently.

Never liked the dark,
this fear I imagined
always foremost in my mind.
The closed door loomed ahead.
Fumbling for a key,
feet aimed for safety,

sweat spread
and soaked my sweater
as shoes sprinted forward.
Inside and safe at last,
I awoke damp and tangled
like that seaweed blinded moon.