In the dead of night,
When moonlight shines
My lantern captures,
That which is mine.

Awakening graveyard,
The spirits do beckon
Calling out to me,
At least, what I reckon;

Is their immortal way
Of conveying their wishes
And I am never,
At all, suspicious.

For this is the time
Of the year I bloom
Though others may see
A most certain gloom

Autumnal equinox
My treasure, my Fall
The time in my life,
When the spirits enthrall

 

©2019 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
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