The night is upon us, cold, dark, silent.
The senses become alert, watchfully seeking …
But for what?
What lurks in the depths, stalking its prey like a cat on hunt?
We walk though shadows, buying time.
Waiting, listening carefully, painfully alert.
Like some primitive, fearing the absence of light.
Never certain of what the void brings with it.
Who its victim shall be.
What we fear is within us.
The evil is always there, waiting to strike out.
The loneliness takes hold, it slowly strangles us.
We hover in crowds, amid noise and blinding flashes of light.
All to hide …
From the enemy …
It is ourselves
Ann Christine Tabaka was born and lives in Delaware. She is a published poet, an artist, a chemist, and a personal trainer. She loves gardening, the ocean, and her cats. Her poems have been published in many poetry journals, reviews, and anthologies.