Long Shadows (Poetry)

Long shadows stretch out — strain to touch me
with their chill — their damp a creeping claim
that works itself along the ground — sly
hulking smotherers of light — their deepening grey
inches move like a thin pressing tide
caught in slow motion — labouring soundless
and swallowing everything — flesh and grass.

They wait patient behind walls — having
all the time in the world — they stalk the lawns
hug trees until the dawn — but always they’ll be back
outside the door — skulking unobtrusive
as if they think I don’t know they’re there —
I sit in this light-box of a room — safe for now
imagining ways to outwit them.