The Silhouette Poem by Clare Murgor

It was that silhouette
She always paused to see
No precise figure
No precise movement
Every evening,
always at the corner of her room beside her lamp
always behind the tree under the moonlight

It was that silhouette
Kept her scared but silent
Scared to scream and make it leave
Scared to be silent about it and let it harm
She felt safe


It was the silhouette
The figure of what she imagined
The figure she wanted to bring to life
The figure that would make her silent
The figure would smile at...
her lover