The Dark Night

The boy clutched his three dollar plastic
Batman desperately, the Dark Knight
a totem against the shadows cast on
the wall by the tree branches outside
his window. The full moon hung in
the night sky like a Bat Signal, calling him
to the edge of his crib where he could
watch the world outside for any sign of
mischief afoot. He could hear his
sister snoring softly across the room,
like most other Gothamites unaware
of the dangers lurking everywhere. From
the hallway came a meow–a sign of the
Catwoman? He reached instinctively
for his utility belt and found only the plastic band of a disposable diaper.
Downstairs, someone laughed, perhaps
the Joker. He stood up in the crib, ready
to pounce on the fiends, but pulling
himself up loosened his grip on the
Caped Crusader and the toy fell to the
carpet below. Alone in the dark, totally
defenseless, the boy suddenly understood
the impotence of a hero unmasked.


About semiblind

Bringing you stark existentialism since 1981.
This entry was posted in best-laid plans, entertainment, family, fear, poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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