Jessica Thomas
The Stalking
All day long
it followed me
through desolate streets,
unwritten utterances that hid
in alleyways
and behind fire escapes,
dissipating when I turned
to catch a thought.
Half-formed fragments
collecting slowly
always fifteen feet behind.
At last, when the day's events drift off
like inattentive neighbors,
in the low light of midnight,
poetry slips in through a window.