Saturday, 1 October 2016

Fall Under a Spell

Cursing the Indian summer,
The witch's gnarled fingers
Cast a spell
From her barren abode
Halloween nears
As her spirited accomplice howls;
A screech owl hovers above.
Colour vanishes from the treetops
Like the tattered pages
In her volumes on voodoo;
The leaves curl and crumble
Onto the darkened ave
Whole limbs lie severed on the ground,
A trail of magenta nearby.
Midnight approaches
As the forest transforms
In the shadows;
Bony boughs harbour
A kettle of nocturnal eyes;
Skeletal forms tremble and cower
Under the lunar glow,
Their silhouettes now mirror
That of the wizened old hag
October 2005

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