The last twilight fades. Even a flicker of firelight lay beyond sight. A new moon arises invisible in the sky. Even the stars fail to twinkle, as overnight clouds roll in.

The surrounding space becomes simultaneously becomes expansive and constrictive. Clautrophobia and agorophobia unite as useless eyes peer into the black. Every rustled leaf, katydid chirp, raccoon cry thunders from seemingly every direction. Each step echoes as loudly along both dirt and gravel.

It’s suddenly easy to understand the old myths of drow, liches and other haunting entities of the night when it gets dark.

dawn
a cold sweat
remains
a fire’s ambers
still glow

#tankaprose #tanka #micropoetry #poetry #GerryMuse

for the Tanka Poets on Site Facebook Group prompt 6/1/2019 Gerry Muse: when it gets dark