An Eve’s Presence by Harris Coverley


Come back from the party
      Out of the taxi
      Pay up far too much (with tip)
What a bloody disappointment!

All dolled up
And nothing to show for it
Fishnets from your arse down to the new high-heeled shoes
      That cost a bomb

The shortest black dress that you’ve got
And the witch’s stripy cone hat at a jaunty angle
     Worth it?
          Was it buggery!

Those guys were all losers…
      Half of them weren’t even in costume
      Lazy bastards
          Just there to stare at any women in slutty outfits
      Their minds and mouths full of it

Hallowe’en a blowout again…
All that effort wasted – what would mother have thought?

Up the driveway
Taxi waved off
There’s the dog at the window…

     What would mother have thought?

Furry white face in the window
Panting away
      Steaming it up
Happy his mummy’s home…

     What would mother have thought?

There’s the dog…
And above him
Just behind
In the window
You‘re not quite sure…

     What would mother have thought?

A figure in a faint glimmer
You stop and squint
Not believing it

     What would mother have thought?

An older woman
With a familiar grin
Someone you remember
Someone you loved dearly
Someone you haven’t seen in many years
And thought you never could see again…

     What would mother have thought?

On bending heels
You run up the driveway
Scratch your keys on the lock
Get the door open
Push the breathless but cheerful hound aside

And rush into the living room
     Empty as when you left it some three hours ago

You look and search
     Kicking off the twisted heels

The dog at your side
     Hunting with you throughout the house…

But there is no one else here

And you fall into your armchair
Tears in your eyes
The dog nuzzling at your knee
     Concerned and upset for you

And you can’t help but wonder still:

     What would mother have thought?

You wish she would’ve stayed to tell you

The veil between realms parted for such a brief time
     Upon this Hallowed Eve…


Harris Coverley lives in Manchester, England. A former Rhysling nominee and member of the Weird Poets Society, he started writing poetry some five years ago and has never looked back. With over 150 individual verse published and counting, including in Star*LineCalifornia QuarterlySpectral RealmsCorvus ReviewView From AtlantisDanse Macabre, and many others, he writes with Poe’s observation in mind that: “Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.”

Published 10/28/21

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