Ears (Poetry)

We think we are alone —
no other soul is near —
then out the silence one small sound
suggests someone might be here.

A sigh let go —
not the night wind that whispers
in the chimney — no —
another’s breath

or echo of it dying...
then the creak of wood —
an old house noise
at any other time could

be considered comfort
but all our fears
combine to warn us — check
these walls for ears.

The shadows move —
inch by inch and sly —
a shape — a silhouette
at the corner of my eye —

a rustle — say of silk
a stifled kind of cough —
what shy ghost is this to hide
and not show off?

‘Come out! We know you’re somewhere —
listening!’
We search — find neither hide nor hair —
no sign of anything.