Closing In

Glistening eyes


From behind.

The clock ticks.

The dog howls

In the moonlit night.

Running through the street,

I search for you.

Close your eyes

And count to ten.

Listen to the beetles

Fluttering and buzzing

Around the porch.

Nothing ends

Like a funeral.

A simple type

Of dark words

Closing in on my face.


Author: Gordon S. Bowman III

Writer, Visual Artist, Blogger

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