The Fear Collector

Every year, around Halloween, I try to do a little something for readers, followers and casual browsers who just happen to stray across my website! This year. I have a couple of offerings, starting here with a little poem dedicated to that fleeting image we often catch at the corner of our eye, if nowhere else...

The Fear Collector

You will never catch it, never spy it, never see it

Though it dwells in the corner of your eye
You think, if quick, you’ll glimpse it

But you’re too slow and it always seems to fly

Nothing more, you hope, than a shadow

Nothing more substantial than a shade

There’s nothing to be scared of, this you know

Yet your heart races and you are afraid

Where does it go, when you have turned the lights out?

When there is no contrast to alert your watchful eye?

Your daytime certainties soon become doubts;

It must go somewhere, or does the darkness make it die?

That tiny touch, feather-like, when you’re drifting?

The weird sensation that you are about to fall?

That makes you lurch in your bed, your body shifting?

Could it be that flitting figure does it all?

Perhaps it’s just as well you are too slow

To lay eyes fully on the spectre

That makes you turn your head, lets you know

Here be a subtle fear collector



S P Oldham


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