Rumble of cathedral crows.
Concrete dry wall shows
unrequited love:
clear as day;
disembodied voice says,
“Bloody table edge.”
Hide behind the hedge
and jump out, too scared to say: “Boo”.
(I saw you at the laundromat
but pretended not to.)
Oh, I like this one much.... She's a keeper! Fear of everything is called = panphobia