chicken
I remember feeling someone’s eyes upon me,
that feeling borrowed from a dream
which makes my knuckles prickle.
I started pottering ostentatiously.
I continued humming.
I didn’t
look
around.
The feeling
didn’t go away.
It was very quiet.
I could feel you watching.
I can’t remember why it seemed
so important to avoid making eye contact.
If only I’d turned around, smiled
and said ‘hello’, we might
have enjoyed a day
free from absurd
hauntings of
fear.