Darkness holds up its mirror. My harsh reflection
Accentuates how much the parting day conceals,
But evening, for all its stone-blindness, reveals;
The true face within, malevolent complexion
Suspended in ebony, a dire confection
Of harpy, leech, demon, monster, the grim ordeals
Of knowing the beast that I really am. It seals
My soul for foulness, predation and infection.
Dank air, gathering mist, nothing to reassure
Potential prey, whose unwitting presence completes
My nefarious task, my trail interwoven
With bat-wing flicker, spider web and serpent spoor
As I haunt the coarse bedraggled moonless back streets
With evil’s night eye and a foot part-way cloven.
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Sheepshead Review, Stand, Poetry Salzburg Review and Hollins Critic. Latest books, “Leaves On Pages” “Memory Outside The Head” and “Guest Of Myself” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Ellipsis, Blueline and International Poetry Review.