Winnie’s black dog
crept upon him
during moments of stillness.
No lumbering Labrador;
this stealthy lupine,
like the Black Dog of old lore,
would hide in his shadows.
An artful defense
of paint, prose or construction
would keep the beast at bay,
at least for a time.
J.K gets much closer.
Her apparition:
a billowing cloak
that settles quietly,
leaden on your shoulders,
and clings, with a quiet cry to be fed.
Music works for a spell
but choose charms wisely.
For Dementors can consume these too
and cause a spiral of despair.
I heed Winnie’s advice
And take out a pen…
©Richard Reeve, 2016
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