Happy Halloween!
“Whoo!”
Whispers cold-warning October-winds
Hoot-owl
feathers dance rustling leaves it sends
Large
white oval eyes perched on a skeleton bare branch
Spooky
yellow harvest-moon translucent alabaster-blanch
Pale
ghosts, wild goblins neighborhood streets invaded
“Trick
or treat!” Sugar-sweets keep urchin-kids satiated
Johnny
masquerades an ugly Frankenstein bloody freak-scene
Angelic-child
in broad daylight---he is not really all
that mean
Sweet
sassy Sally-Sue so feminine can actually sew and stitch
Black
pointed hat, wart on long-nose casts evil; wicked-witch
Behind
barred barriers cowers populace while praying “Faith!”
Intelligent
to fear the living rather than some poor spook wraith
“I
want to suck your blood!” Fanged
Count Dracula openly true-confesses
“We’re
used to it!” Counters citizens familiar with politicos’ transgresses
Dark
graveyard ghostlike sentinels white marble statue monuments
“Better
them than me! Dying to get in there!” Determined sentiments
Red,
yellow, gold ghoul-leaves rustle like a rattler’s warning alarm
Play
chase and tag tumbling along caught in a turbulent wind-storm
Wee-ones
scurry house to house with open bags beg charity
A
Headless Horseman gallops on Main Street just for hilarity
On
yon church steeple-high a wicked witch points at all she knew
“At
midnight you all will monsters be! Dare drink of my vile brew!”
“Tis
not the Christmas Eve, most horrid evil woman!” In unison, they plead
With
focused intent, “Candy-full by then we will all be snug-tight in bed!”
Drifting
clouds slowly obscured the illuminating-orb bright full moon
To
tempt chilly obfuscated myriad stinging raindrops descending soon
Racing
safely home with overburdened sweetness-bags shrewd children shout
“Happy
Halloween! Young friends!” Dare! Enjoy it all before, alas: Lights out!
Plus:
Day 317
My Briefcase is
My Brain
I
still have my old, battered leather briefcase that served me well for decades.
I
traveled---a lot…so did my “friend”, that faithful companion.
I
reckon this “memory” comes from me telling Beth that the briefcase was: My brain!
It
was true enough; everything contained in that carrier aided me in my job for so
many years.
It
is now relegated to our entry hall closet; I see it whenever I have occasion to
visit there.
It
rode on the passenger’s seat, open, with my itinerary and files ready at an
instant touch.
I
sure enough made a truck-load of money with that old friend with me every step
of the way.
Kind
of wish I had ten
just
like it! Clones!? Yeah!---the
briefcase…and, the money! Hmm!
Ah! Cookie Jar Sweet “Thanks! Old-friend!”
Memories!
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