Halloween, 2017.

I like doing poems about this time of year.

Halloween, 2017 – Google Docs

Halloween, 2017

 

That hint of cool on dusky wind

As leafy gusts begin to spin;

This air, still warm with summer’s kiss

Now shadows into fall’s cold bliss.

As harvest nights crowd out the days

I feel the breeze and count the ways

That, moving closer — soft and still

— the year falls forward, into chill.

 

But do not grieve; for though the cold

Shall seek our bones and make them old;

Before the snow, and ‘ere the ice

Comes many days that will entice

Our lips to food and merriment.

And of those days we have been sent,

The harvest feast of Hallow’s Eve

Shall hold tight rein upon our grief.

 

Our forefathers — and mothers, too —

Long did they all this season rue;

But let the witch fly broom in sky,

And ghosts remind us all we die.

May skeletons cavort and swank

While friendly monsters make sweet pranks.

The days grow short, this must be said.

But summer sleeps. It is not dead.