Feelings of the fall season. |
A cold wind pushes wispy clouds; shadows fly o’er the silvered land like shrouds. Lights flicker in woods and mountains because it’s Halloween. Night nips the hem of ankle socks-- he ushers out serene. The gibbous moon strains to be known; beyond far hills arrives a plaintive moan. In weighty branches of old oaks, in scary silhouette, the forms of ghouls and goblins loom; that howl of evil threat. It’s Halloween again to chill the bone; an eeriness defining what's unknown. With summer fast asleep beyond the call, rustling leaves--dead of night--I’m feeling fall. Sunset as quick as tabby’s twitch; the incantation of decrepit witch. A host of bats from limestone cave to claw a head of hair. The pale and drain of countenance, that essence of beware. A piercing howl evoking fear; (the memory of warming atmosphere.) The Norway maple’s gnarled leaves, October’s vast debris. A country setting for the rime-- autumn’s alacrity. It’s Halloween again to chill the veins; a hint of winter with these autumn rains. The grins of Jack-o-Lanterns do enthrall; trick-or-treat--leafy street--I’m feeling fall. 32 Lines Writer’s Cramp 11-1-14 [Rhythm: 2(8-10-8-6-8-6) (10-10-10-10); repeat] |