In the Ginnel

The ginnel runs 
into the man.
In the dark it halts. 
In the dark the passage 
is the man. The man says,
“Hello.” The lime stones
are old, cold, obscure.
The man is no one’s friend.

They talk about the troll, the myth.
The man says,
“I’m its replacement.

Kushal Poddar
Picture Nick Victor