There
under the low arched bridge
where the stream whispers
apologetically
and hurries away
There’s something
holding its breath
and waiting for me
when I dare venture below
Utterly still, invisible
against the brick wall
willing me to come just
that little bit closer
But my hair prickles
and I backpedal
stumble and pivot
hand pushing off the ground
lurching away
as the hungry air snatches at my back
with a gasping grumble
There’s something humid
and rotten—you’ll catch a whiff
and know in your gut
you only just escaped
some troll or older evil
Yet up in the light once more
you’ll chuckle brightly
and shrug it off
as a fancy and childish imagination:
not for one so educated, these oddities
of contemporary confusion
and disorientation.
A.J. Dalton
A.J. Dalton is a UK-based writer. He’s published the Empire of the Saviours trilogy with Gollancz Orion, The Satanic in Science Fiction and Fantasy with Luna Press, the Dark Woods Rising poetry collection with Starship Sloane, and other bits and bobs. He lives with his monstrously oppressive cat named Cleopatra.
