The night was calm,
eerily silent,
with not even
a trace of a breeze.
The moon was just
a pale sliver,
hovering
slightly above the trees.
A road passed
by a field,
mostly hidden
by dense grey fog,
and down the road
came walking,
walking,
walking,
down the road
came walking
a young boy
and his dog.

The boy wore
thin pajamas
that were nothing
against the chill,
his dog walked
right beside him
its tail
low and still.
Their pace
was slow and plodding,
they walked
as if in a trance,
and from the field
came growling,
growling,
growling,
from the field
came growling,
but they never
gave it a glance.

The field
had a reputation,
rarely spoken of
in light of day,
but children
were said to vanish
when coming here
to play.
But the town
kept its secrets
and few people
knew cause
of the field’s
dark haunting,
haunting,
haunting,
the cause of the field’s
dark haunting,
they simply knew
it was.

In the morning
the sun rose brightly
burning away
the fog.
A driver saw something
in that field,
it was
the young boy’s dog.
The dog was cold,
half frozen,
but its spirit strong
it wouldn’t yield,
half dead it was
still crawling,
crawling,
crawling,
near death
it was still crawling
slowly
across the field.

They searched
for the boy all morning,
in the adjoining woods
as well as the field.
His parents shook
with heart-wrenching sobs,
a terrible loss
that would never
be healed.
They searched into
the evening,
until the sunlight
began to dim,
but the little boy
was missing,
missing,
missing,
their only son
was missing,
and they doubted
they’d ever find him.

Time passes
and the young boy
is never,
ever found.
The town still keeps
its secrets
and never talks
about this cursed ground.
So despite everyone
knowing
that kids occasionally
vanish there
the whole town
did nothing,
nothing,
nothing,
the entire town
did nothing,
unable to admit
to their fear.