The Intruder
He has come from afar
Cold sweat and breathing
Mud sliding, misty, death-like
Breathless, walking slowly
A lake of pure silver
The mist distorts it
A box on the water, a red light
Scrutinises him, the new arrival
A thrill of horror passes through him
He looks about him, the trees do not smile
The turf is reckoning, the sky's darkening
He clears his head and begins to climb
David Blake
Wed 6th Feb 2013 19:52
Thanks for the feedback Ann. It's semi-autobiographical, based on somewhere real and on the impression of the scene/place I was left with at the time.
I intentionally went for a paranoid, claustrophobic feel, making the protagonist feel like shouting: "I shouldn't be here!" or "I'm being watched!" Hence the title. Although zombies weren't really on my mind here I'm afraid, haha!
It was actually the first poem I'd written of my latest 2009-present carnation. And one of my best, in my opinion. I'm glad you liked it.