Sleepless Night Zombies

On a hot August night, starlight glinting the roof,
and with eyelids like tissue since sleep was aloof,
I went outside to bask in the summery balm
feeling like an insomniac, though I was calm.

I decided to walk in my state of awake
so I strolled through the yard and made straight for the lake.
I have always enjoyed spending time by its shore;
it was part of my boyhood to swim, fish and more.

As I stood near the waves in the presence of lap,
I was startled when I heard the sound of wood snap.
Thus I gazed to the left and could see by moonlight
a throng coming at me with odd faces of white.

All their movements were labored like pain had begun,
and they acted like posture was something to shun.
In my mind I said, “Zombies,” yet part of me balked
but I was pretty sure by the way that they walked.

I at once gathered all of my God-given sense
and made tracks through the field to the gate in my fence.
But the zombies en masse followed my quick, “be gone”
like it was their agenda to have me ‘fore dawn.

When I got to the fence it was zombie-flee fate
that I snagged my jean cuff on the edge of the gate.
It was one of those things that I always had feared
and that fear rose like steam as the zombie throng neared.

Yet as I struggled madly among Levis’ rip,
there came these gentle words from the first zombie lip:
“You are having some trouble--it is clear to me,
so allow me, good sir, to help you to get free.”

Like a dexterous zombie who knew of his stuff,
he reached down and released my jeans’ offending cuff.
And the rest of the zombies, right after a pause,
filled the wee of the morn with a round of applause.

Though the sun was not far from announcing new day,
I regretted insomnia had come my way.
I extended a thank you as zombies edged near
while the one who had freed me whispered in my ear:

“We are well-mannered zombies who wish to survive,
  and we all are ecstatic you seem so alive.”
“This is just a request, please don’t think it insane:
  If it’s not too much trouble, may we eat your brain?”


40 Lines
Anapestic Tetrameter
Writer's Cramp Co-Winner
12-11-17