A panic would settle all over her face
Each night as she pulled the blinds,
‘The world outside is a scarier place
Whenever the day unwinds.
I’ve seen the changes that darkness brings
When the lights in the street go out,
There are screams and cries, and animal things,
Can you say what it’s all about?’
I said I couldn’t, it wasn’t the same
For me as it was for her,
‘The night is merely a lack of light
But nothing has changed out there.
The lamposts stand, they may not be lit
But they’re still upright in the dark,
And as for sounds, and animal things
These are merely dogs in the park.’
‘Dogs don’t howl, or bay at the moon,
They don’t have a Lion’s roar,
And what sits tearing, out in the gloom
Just out from our own front door?
A line of vultures sit on our fence,
Flapping their wings for prey,
While howls and grunts are making me tense
The moment the day’s away.’
‘I’ll take you out and I’ll prove you’re wrong,
There’s nothing to fear outside,
It may be dark but the world goes on
There’s just a turn in the tide.’
‘I wouldn’t dare, there’s a sickly moon
That beams on down from a height,
It has a sheen, and the sheen is green
Whenever I put out the light.’
‘And who is the man at night who roams
Out there on the cobblestones,
You said it’s the window cleaner man
But the window cleaner’s Jones.
And Jones is tucked in his tiny bed
By the time the clock strikes nine,
I know it’s true, for his wife has said,
And his wife’s a friend of mine.’
‘It’s only some ragged, passing *****
Or a gypsy, out for the air,
They park their vans on the common land
Where the village holds its fair.’
‘He jingles coins as he walks on by,
And hums, but it’s out of tune,
You’d see, if ever you part the blinds
Him walking under the moon.’
I’d had enough, and opened the door,
And took her out to the porch,
I felt so confident I was right
I didn’t carry a torch.
We walked a way out into the street
She shivered and gripped my arm,
I waved my hand in a calming sweep,
‘You see? No cause for alarm.’
The air was suddenly filled with bats,
And some were caught in her hair,
While round our feet, a scurry of rats
Brought screams to the street out there.
The vultures sat there flapping their wings,
And launched themselves from our fence,
A man was jingling coins, walked past
Then I knew why my wife was tense.
I dragged her back through the open door,
All bleeding and cut and hurt,
Pulled the bats from her tangled hair
And the ones attached to her skirt,
We never venture outside at night
Not after we pull the blinds,
But leave the world of the after dark
To the man who jingles the coins.
David Lewis Paget