Terror by the Gaslight Post

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