Fatal
Oppenheimer (with apologies)
The wind outside
Shuddering against the street,
The gnashing and moaning
Don’t concern me
But I worry small animals
Stay safe asleep.
Something in us makes us shelter
Close to a fire on windy nights,
Dark memories of ancestral spirits
Rise again to trouble our sight.
I am so tormented, Love,
By images and fears and things that aren’t
That no bed sheet ghost could climb the stairs
And make me fear I’d be his haunt.
There’s something in me
Dark and deep
Bedevils my mood
And troubles my sleep,
And the goblins that make others creep
Flee from me even when asleep…
Something dark they see in me
Far more fatal than they can be.
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