Shadow

It's that time of day again … Time for some poetry.

The following poem I wrote as a child. It was a long winters night and I was the tender age of 13. Interestingly enough, I had been having a sneaky cigarette out of my bedroom window and this mist rolled in. I found it really difficult to finish my sly smoke - as the mist was heavy and thickened by moisture. It was astounding to me, how suddenly it was all around. I had never seen such like before and have never seen mist develop so quickly since.

It was awe inspiring to me and I did something I had never done before. I picked up a pencil and on the back of some unfinished school work I wrote this.

Anyway I digress as I reminisce. Here is Shadow;

Shadow

"There," I see him again!

His tall dark figure almost invisible in this mist. 
He stands at that corner - just under that lamppost!
Waiting, but waiting for what? 
How long will he be there this time?

He's gone again - disappeared, 
just like a ghost, with out a trace. 
Not a single footstep,
Nor slightest shuffle of feet. 

Will he return? 
His tall dark figure almost invisible in this mist. 
He blends into his Erie surrounding.
I fear I can see straight through him. 
As he peers through my very soul. 

Will he be back? 
Will he never return?
This shadow man. 
Or was "HE"just a piece of my imagination?



By Helen Stallard
February 1 2014