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Shrouded Love
September 15, 2009
The dark of night draws its black cloak
O’er the midnight city buzzing
Groups of men in coats like ghosts pass
By me, eyes like beams of red light
I creep down an alley, and I
Know I must look like a crook, so
I run fast and hope he doesn’t
Break free from the crowd and see me
Up the steps and down a hallway
Where the light does flicker; I see
He is there, hidden in shadows
Wait! It could be a trap, not safe
Still, I run to him like he is
All I want and all I need, but
He can’t see my face, for I wear
My cloak of midnight like a shroud.
© Ashley T., Westport, MA
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