Night Hawker
One lonely, chilly night, I awoke to faintly hear
a rap, rap, rap coming from my front door knocker.
Too curious to ignore, I opened it a crack, and there
stood a man, tall and wan, a strange night hawker.
He wavered as he stood, askew, as quietly he talked
of cemetery plots for sale, not far away, brand new.
With deadpan face and wandering eye, gazed off
with parched cracked lips, he spoke as spittle spewed.
A violent, bloody cough exposed his ills, he swayed
came forward to steady himself, then reached to touch
my arm he grabbed and clutched, I struggled away
then gasped, his foul breath reeked, it was all too much.
Suddenly his frail frame crumpled before my very eyes
he writhed and from his mouth sprang leeches from inside
that attached to me and sucked upon my blood until I died.
Written on 9/23/2016
Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2015
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