Sundown

Slinking silhouettes
Climb ancient walls; the
Shadows of lamp posts
Creating shades of grey ghosts
The urge to cringe; creeps in

Traffic sounds, crest and wane as
City voices, crass and profane
Speak from open window fronts…
An old man (in a cardboard box) dies
Wracked in spits, coughs and grunts

Dried leaves crackle
Beneath running feet
Scurrying to safe haven
Escaping from “dark intent”
Wondering where the starlight went
Knowing darkness won’t relent

A scatting cat screeches
Turning warm blood, icy cold…
A sense of foreboding rises
A smiling eye disguises
What the fearful heart may hold*