Quicksand Memories

In dreams, it clutched me, a grip like dread,

where shadows crawled beneath my bed.

We played at camp, those kids in the sun,

pretending we were caught, no way to run.

The ground would swallow, panic unfurled,

imagination twisted like a flag in a whirl.

But now I sit, in this room turned grey,

those fears look smaller, drifted away.