Poet in the Rain

FRIGHTENED

by

Gordon Kuhn

Copy write 2010 © Gordon Kuhn

It’s six in the morning.

My nephew and his wife have gone.

I sit in their basement apartment,

alone——

trapped.

It is Chicago outside.

Ah, sweet Old Windy.

I grew up here.

But——

I am afraid.

God, so afraid.

Why do I fear?

What do I fear?

I know this place.

I hear the sound of traffic

moving along arteries

not far from where I sit

alone——

trapped.

God, I grew up here!

Yet now I’m a visitor from some strange planet

where stalking others is the game of the day

and returned I somehow lost my way.

Yet, I fear.

And, yet I fear.

I fear and wish to run from this place.

To take my car

the only place I feel secure

warm and safe within——

and run.