Almost Busted

In that darkest moment,
A car door opens,         the  dome light glows,
And a welcome mat waves    into the blackness.

Day steps out.

Patrolman boots,
Long silver flashlight --

He approaches
Crunching
On roadside
Gravel.

Night has been pulled over.

Everything down,     slides down in the seat,
Listening for him,     waiting, waiting, and -
Bolting                      out the other side.

                        A mad scramble,
But objects are found    and hidden behind.
Night is shattered        into a  legion of shapes
That move                    only when he moves.

Like dark fan blades    they  turn en masse
Away from                   the light's searching, sniffing.
A pas de deux              with the object forever between.



He knows they are there.   They have to be.
Enough of this circling,       higher, he'll go higher.
But the stains quickly        slither  back to the objects.

And just when he reaches the right angle of God,
The perpendicular to pin specimens down
They hop back inside.

He could break objects apart
Try to torture the darkness out,
But mystery like blood changes when unsealed.

Perhaps tomorrow a law will be broken;
Something will be left outside.
He whistles and continues his rounds

About the world as we know it.

Bruce Nelson has been writing around the corners of his career for years. He has been in education for over 20 years. Currently he is an elementary school principal. He has had poetry published in Oxford Magazine and Touchstone Magazine. He has won first place in the East Texas Poetry contest. He won 2nd place in a state contest put on by the Texas Byliners. He has had feature articles published in the local newspaper and city magazine.

Email: Bruce Nelson

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