A Strange Shade Of Dark

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10 October 2024

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He walks without footsteps; no stranger he greets
His bowed head unseen; he’s the man who won’t speak
He fails to acknowledge those using the park
And then there’s his manner… a strange shade of dark

He’s never seen entering, nor does he leave
But daily he’s seen, so he’s real I believe 
And yet where he treads, he leaves not a mark
Above him the sky is a strange shade of dark

Rumours abound that he’s always around
As he grieves for a child who lies under the ground
For sure he lacks something one might call his ‘spark’
His sorrow it seems is a strange shade of dark

Does he work, does he not, does he live on the street
Does anyone, anywhere tell him he’s sweet
Is he builder, repairer or is life a lark
Perhaps he is simply… this strange shade of dark

Curiosity got me; I followed him once
I harboured the notion there’s something he hunts
He laboured a while as a lamp lit him stark
Yet still what I spied was a strange shade of dark

Why did he linger, why did he wait
Was I the prey and was he the bait
At once my gasp, was my only remark
The thought in my head was a strange shade of dark

There, neath the lamp, buried hilt deep in leaves
A blade as is held by both killers and thieves
The cops came as somewhere I heard a dog bark
The Fed’s sullen frown was a strange a shade of dark

The dark man now faced me and I wonder why 
The face that I see has a tear in its eye
Land excavators were soon in the park
And the feelings I have… are a strange shade of dark

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