THE WATCHER IN THE SQUARE Poem by James Fenton

I wake in the night with a start.
A log settles in the grate
And what was that?
A cat? A rat?
I hate them both with all my heart.
What business have they being up so late?

And what about that man
On the dark side of the square?
What harm has he
In mind for me?
What dark malevolent plan?
What business has he standing watching there?

The night is on the tiles.
A mood settles on the moon.
It gives the faintest of all watery smiles.
It will be gone soon.

But when the smile is gone
And darkness has its day
The watcher at my window will watch on.
He will not slip away.

The lovers hurry by
The watcher in the square.
They seem so busy in their ecstasy.
Hatred has time to spare.

Hatred knows no land,
No hearth, no wife, no brood,
And time lies heavy on the hater's hand
And cold as the moon's mood.

Though I take the forest track
Or ride the mountain trail
I'll never shake the watcher off my back,
The wizard off my tail.

In the stable lantern's soot,
In the soft step on the stair,
I shall glimpse the eye, I shall waken to the foot
Of the watcher in the square.