The steeple bells ring, this Halloween night

Blackest of ravens, begin their flight

Seeking out all, who no longer breathe

Flying about, they impatiently seethe

They must bring one back, the bell man said

Or they would, surely, be the next ones dead

Squawking to each other, they spied down below

The perfect specimen, on which they’d bestow

The terror of those which swoop down on one

Taunting and teasing, all this for fun

Until tired and spent, a human’s lament

Is carried away, in the claws of torment

©Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
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