L'aura del Campo

What she remembers before the lamp gutters out [130]

prompt:          


What she remembers before the lamp gutters out

I do not remember the year
                                                 only that it was winter
         and the unpaved streets were empty
                                                                     although the night was still young
                   and a crescent moon lit the way of the wary
windows dark
                             doors shut
                                                           street lamps guttering out.

Weary,
                   I watched a moonlit man in a top hat walking towards me
         wandering down the stone-clad sidewalk
                                                                               as if he hadn't a worry
                             as the clock struck the hour
         and steam rose from the city
to block out the moon,
                                       bare tree limbs reaching out as if to snatch it.

They say that no one screams
                                                 before Jack rips out your throat.

                             I would know.

That much I do remember...

         Steam rises to gag winter's moon
         before it gasps and breaks this silence.

K Enga (10.june.2017) [174.130] /30:10.2/

Note: a ramble, could become a prose or prose poem... maybe, or a hybrid form, similar to a haibun. Too soon to edit properly, IMHO.

81.185