Stormy night

On a clear hiemal stormy

night at 12,

On a clear hiemal stormy

night at 12,

     In my darkroom,

I, through a stained glass

window, hardly lay eyes on

a shadowy figure of a quaint

creature coming  into view in

a one-way street.

   on a dime, I can't gauge what

 it is, however,

   when it is approaching nearer,

Its figure being metamorphosed,

as much it moves closer, it is being

transformed like a balloon when

blown up and burst over and over.

What would you feel if you were

there?

the equal feeling comes into

existence,

       on the one hand,

I m soliciting myself to probe

what is wavering over there,

and from another view,

the creature,

a bit nigh to my yard in the

slender street.

  For an hour, I m in the same

discombobulation and yen to

learn what it is,

Scrubbing my eyes second

after second,

Looking through the stained

glass window time and again.

    However, the quietude has laid

over me,

I can't make a little

noise of sneezing and coughing,

worrying I could instigate it to

come toward me.

      After a long hold, at 1:00,

a distant sound I hear coming

from somewhere, In the meantime,

the creature gets itself disguised

under one of the shops of the street,

very far away from my yard,

so I again go back to bed and

mulling over for the whole night

what literally it subsists.

©Adi Adnan