December 8th – Consumed by fear, he stood as still as the dark night above him.
16.45-16.55
Consumed by fear, he stood as still as it
and held his breath; the stars were holding theirs
and seemed to sparkle less. They seemed to sit
in silent space and feed off life’s despairs.
They waited. His fear was tomorrow’s shine
and tomorrow night’s night terrors would scream
of creeping dread and stifling, choking twine,
of poisoned things that crawl from out of dreams.
At last he exhaled: his breath in frozen rags
coiled and snaked, twisting against the night sky.
His feet were slow to move, in shuffled drags
he trudged his body home, he felt, to die.
But once inside, the curtains drawn, the light
that blazed his house alive put out the night.
Inspired by a prompt from here
brilliant
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