Photo: Wet Feet Warm Heart – Bob Barker
Poem by: Stewart Brennan
A Mid Night’s Walk
The blue grey flicker of theatre’s twilight,
pales and recedes to red velvet curtains and end credits.
Fright night is over, and just begun,
for worried faces with no way home.
Movie house ushers left behind,
two boys barely nine,
unattended left in mid nights darkness, alone,
walking empty streets, they plan their journey.
A mile to go,
roads devoid of life, dead,
young audacious intellect no longer composed,
agree upon the shortest distance to sanctuary.
Autumn fog floods the air over cobbled streets,
leaving atmosphere crisp with biting chill, swelling panic,
and two young boys attentive to surroundings,
ready to bolt on the faintest sound.
Evenings haze billows on nights breeze,
absorbing lamp light, voice and vision,
to mirror strange reflections in pools of water,
on stone roads and imagination.
Shadows lurk on silent streets, trailing,
provoking image, form and being,
by young omnipotent minds,
creators of tales, myths and legends.
Dragons breath emerges from sewers and moorish fields,
ringing alarms heard by two quickening hearts.
Foul stench and fires steam,
shed the weight of cumbrous legs.
Eyes of the beast zigzags the nebulous fog behind,
Spreading panic in the marrow of its prey, fearfully running.
The screech of the dragon is upon them,
Enticing one last blood curdling shrill of life before their fall,
Adrenalin pumping, blood flowing, lungs inflate larger,
Speed and pace faster in guarded rhythm, accelerating…
The glaring whites of the beasts eyes close in,
“Who you running from? Get in the car ya dumb kids!”
Arriving at the right moment, our champion slays the beast,
and drives us home with much relief.
About this Poem: Two young boys walk home after a late night horror show.
Photo Credit: Bob Barker – Official Website
Bob Barker Art on - Facebook