Like a frightened child she ran into the darkness,
Her eyes open wide glowing crystals
And her pale skin, glistening in the street light.
She stopped and turned, her eyes scanning
Like a search light, into the night.
Someone there?
Or just the wind?
Her heart leapt in anticipation, pulse racing;
She stiffened, tense and ready:


She hurried on, half ashamed by her fear,
Still wary and alert, like a cat.
She crossed the street quickly, huddled in her coat;
Only stilettos on tarmac breaking the silence.
She looked ahead: the car,
And walked faster, faster, almost running.
A nervous twitch, the keys fumbled,
Then inside, engine and lights on;
Safe from the world outside.

• “Night” is from Luke Eastwood’s recently published book of poetry entitled Through the Cracks in the Concrete the Wilderness Grows

Luke Eastwood is a horticulturist and writer based in Ireland. Read other articles by Luke, or visit Luke's website.