Late Walk Home

Memories of walking home late as a child and the fears we carry into adulthood
As I walk slowly through soup thick night
And smell the scent of candles burnt
A sky so black no star can pierce
Wraps me up in treacherous thoughts
Why not in daylight do such thoughts exist
Only in darkness do demons persist
My hands comfort themselves as lovers might do
As trees that I know turn into strangers

My late night walk home
My late walk alone

Here I’m dressed in night’s velvet
My suit of dreams a tailored fit
My pocket ghost my seat of fear
How timely these threads they join me here
And if I were a murderer then here I would tread
For without sun no blood runs red
I check my path behind and fore
I hunt myself and shiver cold

This walk is short but it takes so long
In shades of shadow there’s no birdsong
I push my pace beyond a walk
But to run now that would be foolish
Near Journeys end there’s a tiny light
That will not glow outside this night
A filament of orange safety dawns
As my key slips contented into my front door