autumn came too quickly for this year to end
its colors bounced around from red to brown
fallen leaves, old saints, and windchimes spoke
of cold chilled winds to make our bodies shiver-dance
cold dry air that tastes of paste and cardboard
laughter and the broken sounds of trick or treaters
small generals huddled close together mapping plans
under dim street lamps that swirl in iced-breath fog
our small lean town has geared to pumpkin colors
witches hats so black the night has competition
ghoulish goblins rubber faces loosely fitting
tiny skeletons that thump the porch to ring the bell
the sun and moon have time-stepped through the sky
a year of ballroom dance this hallowed eve
this night you hailed the boatman on the Styx
alone, fare paid, he carried you away into the dawn
the click of automated coffee awoke me from my sleep
to morning habits commited to our hearts so long ago
the dinosaurs of well established life enduring scenes
I tried to wake you, but you would not move
was this a trick the season played on me
had Medusa turned you cold with one swift glance
what anguish had my heart toward the Gods
I would have gladly paid their greatest treat
the beasties sing of life's on-going healing time
(what passes slower than the time of age
when left as one within a winter's world)
but will the ghoulies chant me songs to ease my pain