Midnight Run

Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Meeting the Bar, Bjorn is having us us write 14 line poems with a volta. This is not my usual style and truth  be told, it is probably one of the worst poems I have ever written.  I don’t know if I will even put it in my “to be polished” folder.  But I tried!  And it does rhyme, after a fashion – badly. I’m not even sure if it is a legitimate poetic form. Mea culpa.


Fitful winds tear brittle fog
swirling it erratically about the street.
Hollow taps of running feet –
behind her she knows he follows –
into an alley she slips to hide
and silently into shadows she glides.

Silent still she crouches and hears him pass.
still hiding, waiting – should she go?
softly, slowly rising – walking on tiptoe
to the street, looking both ways.
there, on the corner under the light
He turns and has her in his sight.

He freezes – shoulders high she begins to run,
Leaps onto his chest and bares her teeth – this is going to be fun.


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