A figure i recognised as one i would like to know.
Damp cobbles in March.
I heard his voice before I saw his face.
Although the shadow of the Fish Market held his face from view,
I was still able to identify the slim of his legs.
He slipped into lamplight and his face awkwardly observed mine.
I saw shadows brimming,
And i do not even recall with whom he was travelling.
But he was.
And who'd of thought such points of shoes could lead so far past me?
I've heard of crying out loud, but never has it punctured thought.
I still hear another's wonder. I still wonder if it's coming.
Oh, a rather large bat.