By T.L. Coston
Oh, I do know the grasping fingers of fright
When venturing into darkness
Alone without friend and scarcity of light
For the imagination can overwhelm a weakened heart
In my advanced age, that night I almost departed
In the old harbor when the first cold air bites
A fog rolled in and the buoy bell chimed
I clasped my coat to silence the chill
And listened to my footfalls on the cobblestone road
And listened - and listened for footfalls on the cobblestone road
Opaque was the night on this sojourn
Where even shadows hid from their dark overlord
And every sense tingled with vexation
Indeed, every sound amplified and threatened
Every sound a menace
In the distance about a block away
A gaslight flickered - waxed and waned
I was attracted to this old post as a moth to a flame
For this glow welcomed a wary traveler
Ahh, it assuaged a desperate, wary traveler
It was then I picked up the pace
And began to chuckle at my dismay
For a man of my advanced age
To be scared of spooks and ghouls?
Indeed, to be scared of spooks and ghouls
It was then He stepped out from the dark
Cloaked in a top hat and inverness cape
The gaslight did not reveal his face
There we stood staring at each other for sometime
Nay, we stared at each other for a long-long time
Terror - if it can be named - suspended time and space
This specter’s eyes burned with immense hate
Oh, how my body ached to escape back into the dark
To run - to run with all my strength
To fly - to fly away from this fiend
It was then the fog crept in
Then darkness joined them
These two coquettes embraced this fiend
This menace with hateful eyes
Who preyed upon a frightened mind
As the three danced around the gaslight post
I ducked and ran with my head bowed low
Their laughter shrill and hollow cut to the bone
Echoed down the cobblestone road
Mocking an old man, who ran and ran, down the cobblestone road
