Monday, September 3, 2018

Janet

I can't always see her
But I always know she is there

I've come to call her Janet

With a light crunch of gravel
While strolling on a moonless night
Closer than seems comfortable
Ceasing before I can illuminate a light

That car that drives by
Just a little too slowly
Windows gangster tinted
Just a little too dark to see

A presence hovering up above
When no one else is around
Gone when I abruptly look up
Without aerial disturbance or sound

Under my bed in the dust
Is the only place I've seen evidence
Upon lifting the dust ruffle to peer beneath
A clear bodily outline is defined

Showing Janet is always near

No comments:

Post a Comment