Midnight

Walking home, late at night Heels clicking dully on the pavement, muted by the snow Softly falling flakes, silent cold shroud Even the passing cars are reduced to no more than a slushing sound Pools of streelight serving only to remind one of remembered light Then, an odd noise; a low dark growling Pick up the pace, heart beating like a small frightened bird Hurrying now, but something's faster A flash of movement in the eye's corner Blood, so bright against the softly falling snow The softly falling snow