The Watcher

I step

soft and light

and walk on in the night.

The breeze

cool and soft

the moon casting little light.

The day

is late

and the world is dark

distant eyes

glow at me

from the other end of the park.

I see the silhouette of a man

outlined by moon and by stars

a low top hat on his head

in his mouth, a cigar.

But no smoke rises from the edge

and no glow announcing that it’s lit

and no color fill the man

And his stare does not quit

The breeze grows still

and my heart skips a beat

the world feels cold

and our eyes now meet.

I stare but don’t move

I don’t speak, I don’t breathe,

I do not run, I do not shout

my body numb I cannot leave.

Then with a blink the shadows gone

and a chill is all it leaves behind

so I turn, and walk on

pushing it’s gaze out of mind.