Specter

I wake up to find

the silhouette of a man

in the doorway of my childhood bedroom,

his elastic shadow stretched too long

within a single beam of light

on the floor.

He doesn’t have the same shape

as my father or my older brother.

He is taller and leaner.

I can’t see any of his features,

just the outline of short, spiky hair

on top of his head.

He is a shadow himself, it seems.

Motionless, silent.

I lie as still as I can,

holding my breath.

I squeeze my eyes tight,

open them,

and he is gone.