The monster in the sky

The irryss

Is gone with a soft downbeat of

Mammoth wings.

It soars out of view,

Out of the city

Out of Alaria

Before I reach the corner of my street.

I have chased the sun and lost.

Its rays flicker and die

as it dips beneath the horizon.

Night flights were always her favourite.

The thought hurts like a fresh wound,

Despite being ten years

festered.

He is waiting.

I swear, low and swift,

Using breath I can't afford to spare.

"You're late."

The words are an accusation

and I have no defence.