For a moment I felt it creep towards me while I whispered
like I was luring a mouse
or a mistake
and in the dark I didn’t even know what it was
just that the moon was full so the grass was bright gray
and the shadows held something sad
something silent and drowning.
I dropped everything to save it;
must have been innocence
must have been cut into pieces or wishing
The palm of my hand was unwashed;
but by this.
It never did come out
I read it Shakespeare at night and
left it bread for breakfast.
Just a feeling,
it must have been just a soul
hiding out there, trying to sleep.
I am deciding whether to keep waiting and coaxing
or if it is time to recant
and crawl with it into the shade from this tiresome bright.