Misshapen forms scrawled across the Trex decking in late afternoon:
a green outlined jack-o-lantern wishing it was ripe
with a mouth hoping for some replacement teeth,
an oversized white owl
that would form a ghost in the night sky
and a purple monkey that smiled with a snarling set of teeth
not belonging to this world.
As if from under the deck,
but out of our crude drawings they rose
sending two-dimensional vision
to three-dimensional life.
The jack-o-lantern sprouted stem first and squatted near the railing.
The owl’s wings spread and it perched, the size of an eagle, on the eave of the house
and the purple monkey sprung arms, legs and a tail and
pulled at the gutters in creeks and cracks.
I wondered about our creations with the beasts sitting there
and the clouds crowded in from the west.
The jack-o-lantern’s innocent need for dentures
began to look like s sinister tooth lessness,
the owl turned from a simple etching
to a bird of prey that was in need of more than a mouse or two
and the monkey’s smile gnashed as he dropped from the gutters
blocking our entrance and exit
and leaving us with the darkening sky.
We jumped stairs two by two
and sprinted down the driveway,
while yellow chalk zigzags cut across black skies.
The driveway edged with white chalk
and we disappeared into crudely drawn trees
with green rounded tops; chased into the night by
large open wings,
rustling branches
and the sound of a wheel across the gravel drive
when there wasn’t one.
Originally published by Sparrow's Trombone 2021
Matt McGuirk teaches and lives with his family in New Hampshire. He’s a BOTN 2021 nominee. His debut collection with Alien Buddha Press called Daydreams, Obsessions, Realities is on Amazon. His second collection, Oil Stains Like Rorschachs will be released soon with Anxiety Press. http://linktr.ee/McGuirkMatthew Twitter: @McguirkMatthew Instagram: @mcguirk_matthew.