Charles J. Ingerson


Carefully walking
lonely the night
little of talking
security is tight.

Sound familiar
feeling the mood
strange but similar
like those who brood.

Burdens found light
seeing discomfort
prolonged this fight
ambush’s to report.

Screeching the grass
bending low to hear
where few will pass
when we’ll be near.

Footsteps are left
a minute or hour
life depends deft
of sure quick power.

No time to meander
death lurking here
peace the pretender
burden’s of fear.