The warning sign

There Should Have Been a Warning sign at the very least

There should have been a warning sign,

A whisper in the rustling leaves,

A flicker in the fading light,

A shadow slipping through the trees.

There should have been a distant cry,

A shiver in the summer air,

A crackle in the midnight sky,

A hint that something wasn’t there.

But all was calm, the world was still,

The stars above in silent sweep,

No omen broke the quiet chill,

No prophet stirred from restless sleep.

There should have been a sign to see,

A mark upon the weathered stone,

A line etched in the bark of trees,

A signal that I wasn’t alone.

Yet here I stand, the truth too late,

The path behind me overgrown,

The warning lost in hands of fate,

Now I must face this night alone.

There should have been a sign, at least,

A glance, a gesture, faint but clear,

A whisper from the haunted east,

To ward away what now draws near.

But silence reigned, the night was deep,

No harbinger to break my peace,

No sign to wake me from my sleep

There should have been a sign, at very least.