Poemata a mentis putrescentis - Figure of the Night

This dark figure

Roaming about town

What is it?

Can it be described by a noun?

A man? A child?

Maybe it’s kind

It may only be of sight

In the street- and moonlight

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You try to make out

Bits of its face

You may wonder about

Where has it come from? What place?

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Dare you establish its existence?

A greeting caused by persistence

From its lips escapes a “Hello”

You want to leave and go

Its voice is soft and rusty

Maybe young and dusty

Dry and yet misty

Scary and twisty

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At last, you have passed it

Should you look back once more?

To see is a dark silhouette

You wish to think of it nevermore

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This dark figure

Roaming the ground

Will it ever make a sound

Other than its gloomy “Hello”?

At dawn it returns to its homey shadow

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originally written between March 13th and May 20th 2024

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