Hallow's Eve Morning, poetry by Leta Hawk at Spillwords.com
Aaron Burden

Hallow’s Eve Morning

Hallow’s Eve Morning

written by: Leta Hawk



Looks like winter.
Slate gray clouds hang
Just above the ridge tops.
Between cloud base and horizon,
The magenta-orange haze
Portends a chilly dawn.

Out back,
A carpet of frost
Dulls the still-verdant grass.
Twisting paths
Of darker spheres
Tell of predawn visitors
Crossing the yard.
Raven roams,
Adding her own path of prints
As she sniffs the story
Of night-beasts passing through.

I sip coffee and smile.
Thoughts turn to the spooky souls
Who will come knocking
Seeking sugary treats
Under cover of masks and darkness
Before flocking to frightful festivities.
Memories rise
Of childhood parties past,
And tales told in dark rooms
With flashlights beneath our chins.

One reminiscence crisscrosses another,
And I soon recall
Superstitions whispered by elder aunts
On dark October nights.
I cackle into my cup;
My logical, modern mind
Doubts and discards
The old beliefs of veils parting
And souls slipping
Between worlds.

I watch as my breath ascends
To vanish in the icy air,
And I know
That summer has slipped
Beyond the veil of time,
And winter will soon materialize
In its place,
Amid a hoarfrost veil.

That thought
Makes me shiver
More than the spooks
And skeletons
And super-villains
Who will visit in the night to come.
With a final glance
To the gray sky,
I whistle for the dog
And retreat inside.

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