The moonlight is missing

Do not trust the moonlight

for it steals about and conceals,

taking pleasure, security and certainty.

Fear remains, the chilled shiver,

the furtive look over one's shoulder.

The dread coldness where once

your blood flowed.

 

Death lives here.

The stars, should they shine at all,

are but heedless warning lights.

 

Run! Run!

 

That was not a breeze.

That was not an animal.

No face but yours, no mind but yours.

It slithers into your dreams, where nightmares foment.

Your mute screams, your open eyes, your paralysed thrashing

avail you of nought within the enveloping moonlight.

 

For you will come face to face with your desires;

and you will die within sight of them.

Reviews

[Leslie Philibert]

Jeremy is a quality writer, I really like his work. This is a fine poem, shades of Poe, almost a Gothic feeling bound together with the structures of modern poetry and an excellent central metaphor...

[Jeremy Baker]

Thank you for your kind words, Leslie. Your writing and skill always leaves me thinking and teasing out nuances of meaning long after the first reading - I really appreciate your feedback :)

[Ruth]

Lovely to see you hon and as always, this was wonderfully rich in imagery and a biter of an ending x

[Jeremy Baker]

Thanks Poppy. It's been too long; life gets in the way sometimes. But it also provides the stimulus too! Thanks for your kind words :)