The Underpass

Darkness descends on the tower block,

A female lamb bids farewell to the flock.

The moon hangs high in the inky sky,

and an underpass looms in the thick gloom:

A perilous passage home.

Peeking into that dimly lit den,

A glow of eyes peer back through the crepuscular light.

A strong smell of urea indicates

that the dark passage is marked territory.

Clutching a handbag, the lamb wanders in,

keys pressed between fingers,

A feeling of dread lingers…

Teeth gnash and eyes flash

as members of a tartarean pack emerge

one by one.

Sneering jeers meet with the lamb’s tears

as the pack pick at their prey,

Laughing,

Laughing,

Laughing.

First a scarf is snatched,

to detract from another attack:

A swipe of the handbag.

One of the gang lights a fag,

Laughing,

Laughing,

Laughing.

Feeling afraid, the lamb runs away;

outnumbered and scared,

separated from the herd.

The lamb runs for the light and escapes

unscathed (minus a bag and a scarf).

Beware the underpass for it is filled with

Hyena’s

wearing baseball caps.