
Photo: Martin Adams on Unsplash
She’d appear out of her bed
As if in dream.
An apparition in their kitchen.
A small figure levitating up the stairs
From the nursery,
A flannel nightgown sweeping over the cold floor
And her bare feet.
They might’ve wondered
Why she had become
A somnambulist,
Had they not needed to keep
Any odd thing
Completely clandestine.
So they latched the front door
High,
And kept the very secret
Of her night-walking
Under the covers
Of unspoken sleep.
For the Weekend Writing Prompt: Somnambulist in 78 words
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