sullen, the sky squats
white-flecked grey, promising rain
a mimic of fall.
out, the child and I
see a truck stacked with dead hens
stray feathers float down.
the day of the dead
of spirits and phantasms
things go bump tonight.
a carnival, too
death's heads grin as life surges
candy-sweet and new.
All Hallows Eve, this
a day to open the door
weirdness is abroad.
laughing children fill
streets with their quest for sugar
bedecked in darkness.
on this day, marking
death and the dead, they hunt
the sweet stuff of rot.
life, contemplating
what lies ahead; the pleasure
of fright with surcease.
tomorrow, we will
name all the saints, and laud, sing,
the passage of night.
tonight, we trick death
temporarily, of course,
throwing life like dust.
- Kathy, 31/10/13
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