loose threads

the summer all the cows died
they came in the night 
dressed in people clothes
an army of clacking lowing bones
rattling the doorknob
tapping on windows
with crude shriveled hooves
begging to be let inside the house

they implied that telling my parents 
about them would have
dire consequences
as flames flared in the night skies
where its eyes used to live

they came every night that summer
bones rattling in a long procession 
from the fields below up to our door
time has dulled the edges of these terrors
but if i close my eyes and concentrate
i can still hear the ghostly rattling of bones and hooves
echoing through the oklahoma night

-rjm

prompt: nightmares, from Amy Kay