among us

he wore his hat
brim low
to keep his face
withdrawn
from the light

hidden
under a shadow

didn’t say much
in a voice
that sounded cracked
and dry

more a shape
than a man

drawing dark around him
like a cloak
filled
with nothing

no
he didn’t say much
but if you ever glimpsed
his eyes

you’d see a fire
just waiting to burn

and you’d need to
look away
quick
because he
is a fire

getting ready
to burn

~

Poem #442 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

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4 thoughts on “among us

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