The Enemy By Brian Koester

 

The sound of footsteps in the sound of footsteps.

Stop and listen. Nothing.

 

Start, they start; stop, they stop.

Strain to hear.          Where nobody goes

 

look over the shoulder

for what just ducked around the corner.

 

From the closet in the dark

breath on the back of the neck

 

a hint of a fang, a glint of a razor,

the enemy wearing the face in the mirror

 

Brian Jerrold Koester is a Pushcart Prize nominee and a Best of the Net Anthology nominee. He lives in Lexington, Massachusetts and has been a freelance cellist.