out there

I sit bolt upright and open my eyes, but the room is pitch black and quiet. My heart pounds so hard that I can hear it, and, for a split second, I know that you are here. But the panic subsides, and I try to calm myself. It was only a dream.

why did i have to look
through that window as a child
as the car sped through the night
on the lonely country road

on that night so long ago
in that cold and hard back seat
where i learned that you should not
stare so deeply at the dark

i remember your red eyes
and the blackness of your shape
that was darker than the night
and i should have looked away

but i strained my neck behind
so i saw the faintest glimpse
when you turned and met my eyes
and i knew you saw me too

and, although i wasn't sure,
as you disappeared behind
i believe you turned my way
and you took that first small step

though we left you far behind
as we sped on through the night
i remember that first taste
of the now familiar dread

i could see you in my mind
loping slowly through the dark
always picking up the scent
never giving up the chase

and i don't what you are
and i don't know what you'll do
but i know deep in my heart
that you'll catch up with me soon

that you're out there

Comments

[Kelly]

I LOVE the cadence of this poem; it gallops along and fits the subject so well; every subsequent verse heightened my fear and anticipation. It's like a child's poem that scares the crap out of you - like a child's poem should, and I'm not being facetious. Very Maurice Sendak.