When our caregivers’ car draws up,
there is a tall thick-set man
loafing around in the street.
I don’t like the look of him.
There is something unsavoury
about his demeanour.
When I point him out,
the man pulls a black hood
over his head, and sidles away.
He moves slowly, with measured
steps, and is gone. I take a deep breath.
My guardian thinks he’s a vagrant,
my girlfriend is unimpressed.
But I know he was waiting for me,
that he has me in his cross-hairs,
that he means to harm me.