It scares you, doesn’t it?
Here in the dark,
hemmed in by the damp, whole smell of earth and air
and the endless lapping of the water,
the spindly fingers of the trees crawling their way up into the night,
you feel it, I know,
that you’re not alone.
Yes, I’m here, and I’ll talk,
if only because you want to,
though you won’t like what I say.
You’d do well to remember, my curious friend,
to look beyond your lens and listen past your recordings
and truly see –
there are worse things haunting this place,
terrors more frightening and damned creeping in
the shadows of this world,
than me.

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