Silhouettes In Moonlight
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I never saw them in the day, I couldn't - no one could ... they were "of the
dark" ... oh, they moved about when the sun was up, no question. I would
walk to the lagoon each day to fish, and on my return there'd be tracks
over mine, their very distinct twisted-toe tracks, with claw indentations.
I could see where they had walked right up to me, close enough so I could
feel the cold of their breaths on my neck, (and I swear at times I did feel it),
but, silent as they were invisible in daylight, I never heard them ... just
felt them ... watching me ... waiting ... I knew, long before I came to the
Island, that they were there. Oh, some thought the mystery of their existence
merely a fable, but I had loved a Polynesian beauty once, I'd been close to
her family for years, and the horror stories were too frequent and far too
substantive - to deny. But I never expected to feel them like that ... an
Almost irrepressible urge to run, a fear so overwhelming and heavy, that I
wanted to scream aloud. But they had not the power to affect flesh, you
see, not while the sun touched any part of the island ... I knew that, and
I tested it early-on ... so I moved about in sunlight hours with freedom,
Almost taunting them at times, brazen, even laughing occasionally, when I
knew them to be spying on me. Then ... then came that full moon - a blood
moon, on a beautiful and rare night, when Luna was at her closest and
brightest ... that day I'd been reminiscing about the ones I'd left behind,
The rum flowing smoothly and quickly, and in the false security of my bender,
I erred in judgement, thinking perhaps the night was bright enough to offer
safety for me, so I fell asleep in the late-day glow of the sun and my
reverie. But the alcohol did its job far too well, and I slept long into the night.
When I awoke, the moon was low on the reach, about to set, my skin, cold as
ice, though the evening had been as warm as any ... I felt them, the puffs
of their breaths on me everywhere, that horrid, sickening fear deep in my
bones, and with the last beams of Luna as she set, I saw their huge,
Grotesque shapes all around me, and their hideous silhouettes ... in moonlight.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "One In Five II" Poetry Contest, Joseph May, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2018
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