The anticipated fog
steamrolls over
terrestrial things
in ways worthy
of emulating.
Clearing in manhole
windows, a glint of caught
starlight hints at the presence
of an eternal watchful
vigil by the moon cast.
Slow and muffled comes the
hollow sound, conjured by a presence
stirring the air.
Straining to hear
a muse muttering
your name as if it were
pronounced in the echo
of Nobody.
Painting by John Atkinson Grimshaw (1836-1893), 'A Moonlit Evening' c. 1880 in Public Domain.
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