Let There Be Light Poem by Mary Champion

It is late and snowing.
I wander aimlessly -
wonder fearfully.

In an area of urban wasteland,
behind an ivy-covered wall,
I sense a presence -
an unformed perception -
slightly sinister.

Moving shadows,
magnify my imagination,
conjuring malevolence -
monsters, mass murderers
out of the icy air.

Snow-flakes pixelate -
blurring the shadowy horrors
that mesmerise me.
Yet I still experience the malign spectre,
chilling me deeper than the stinging snow.

Blundering blindly,
tripping over tree roots and rubble,
I stumble towards the smudged light
of the streetlamps
and, my heart-beat steadies
as I join the familiar bustle
of the home-bound throng.