Seeing Things (Poetry)

I have been “seeing things” for weeks —
months — years, maybe.
That sudden movement at the corner
of my eye — a flicker
like a disappearing tail —
something fleeing sideways through some door
I can’t perceive face-on yet glimpse when turned
and not quite looking — focusing elsewhere.

It’s quick — evasive — slyly gives no clue
to what it might be —
creature — human — ghost —
instinctively I feel it’s living and aware
of how perplexed and curious and —
what? Well, oddly patient — confident
in time I’ll catch whatever’s teased and so
intrigued me for so long.

One day it’s certain we’ll come face to face —
and then I’ll know for sure
identify who shares my space
whose shadow flits across my floor.