Octobers' End
There are ghouls and witches,
there, in that place
and their.
For I have seen faces sharp,
and broomsticks,
inside church gates,
brazen against holy water.
For it is end Autumn,
mellow, and time of sadness,
and leaves, falling
and gathering, on the ground.
Into compost possibility,
colors not as bright,
although the Virginia creeper
blushes a last
smile of red,
and lets in the robin.
Into fog time,
and walking around the park,
and the bare trees with
sleeping root,
remembering.
wistful remembering,
before Santa-
and then Spring.
poem by Bernard Kennedy
Added by Poetry Lover
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