I am
something you almost see in the forest
From the
corner of your eye,
And then
is gone.
It is
night.
Pretend it
is night.
Stars are
falling in the forest.
I am the
sex offender that you read about
Once again
yesterday
With only
the names changed,
And you
wonder again what unspeakables
Might be
dressed up or perhaps even cross dressed
In such
abstract nouns as
Victim.
Unlawful.
Assault.
Love.
Predator.
Though of
course love was never mentioned.
I am that.
The wolf
under the bed that lingers into adulthood.
The wolf
now stalking Red Riding Hood in the woods.
The wolf
that will not survive the direct gaze.
It is
night.
Remember?
We are
pretending that.
It is in
the forest.
You turn
to see it more clearly,
And then
it is gone.
I am a
memory of when you touched yourself
In that
place where boys and girls are not so different really,
And
discovered what we might now call a Supernova --
For it was
more energy than you thought possible
Consuming
vast regions of space
In a
blinding happiness you knew you could not tell about.
I am that.
That
bright star.
Or the
memory of one
Seen only
off to one side.
It
frightens you.
So you
kill me
Thinking
you can do so without also dying --
That you
can clang that huge door shut
Only on me.
Jay Edson