LATE NIGHT
by Larry Mariscal
Late at night,
Alone, in my study,
If I look to the right,
The window is a black square.
I can only see my reflection.
But if I turn the lights off,
I would see the white face pressed to the glass,
And the long fingers that scrape the pane,
And the wide outstretched mouth...
So I sit.
Late into the night.
Writing this poem.
Because it is watching me.
And I don’t want to turn off the light.
Larry Mariscal is a junior pursuing a Baccalaureate in English with a minor in art.