Have you ever seen a shape in the dark but couldn’t quite make out what it was? Maybe you caught something out of the corner of your eye—a shadow, a lump, a blur—and for just a second your imagination ran wild.
This time of year, even though the days are starting to get a little longer, it’s still winter. It’s still the darkest season. The sun rises late. The evenings stretch on. And when the light is low, ordinary things can look… not so ordinary.
Just this morning, I glanced across the room and thought I saw a black cat sitting perfectly still. On second look, it turned out to be a wastebasket. I’ve done that more than once; seen something indistinct and, before my brain could catch up, imagined all sorts of ominous possibilities.
So I decided to write a poem about that feeling. About spotting something you can’t quite identify… something that seems to move when you move… something that stays just out of sight. When you don’t know what you’re looking at, your imagination is happy to fill in the blanks, and it doesn’t always choose the most comforting answer. I hope you enjoy it. This is…
It Followed Me to School Today
It followed me to school today.
I’m not sure what it was,
though it sounded soft and scratchy,
like a chunk of rusty fuzz.
I couldn’t see it clearly.
It remained just out of sight
as it slunk along in shadows
and retreated from the light.
I started walking faster.
I could smell it. It was foul.
Then it slithered even quicker
and I may have heard it growl.
I felt a rush of panic, thinking
I might not escape.
So I bolted down the block, but still
could not outrun that shape.
At last, I stumbled into school.
I thought I got away,
but it wriggled underneath a bush
and waited there all day.
It followed me back home from school.
It’s now outside my room.
I’m supposed to go to bed, but there’s
this looming sense of doom.
I’d better go tell mom and dad.
They’ll want to hear this warning:
I’ll be staying home tomorrow
if it’s still there in the morning.
— Kenn Nesbitt
