(I felt the story had something more to say to me, so here is the final instalment on ‘There be a Shadow’ poetry/trilogy.)
I walk the length of the floor
towards where the phone usually sits
on a tiny table next to the TV
I stare baffled
now where did it go?
I swear it was here before
Them, they must have moved it!
I pat the air and feel nothing
and in despair
turn and head for the street
I’m going to find an exorcist if it kills me
and thus I reach for the door.
It opens and an elderly woman steps in, shivering suddenly
she glares at the dark lounge, and the stairs leading upstairs
‘Maybe the local priest?’ she breathes, and leads a young woman
down the corridor
gasping at sight of broken pottery on the floor.
‘Did you leave it on the edge, Mum?’
‘No,’ cries she and reaches for the dust pan beneath the sink.
‘The other day, I swear I heard three,’
and begins to sweep.