1st Hour of November

by bertie-bug box - Cancer

This cold-night silence is too loud,
Up in this bleak and starry noon.
And like a vampire's fang the moon
Grows from a thin black lip of cloud.

The darkling parties have now ceased,
And down the empty autumn street,
The last faint laughs of trick-or-treat,
Are silenced by the wind-swept leaves.

And now retracts the morbid moon;
A wolf's mouth of clouds closes in,
And swallows up this night of sin:
- This bleak and eerie, starry noon.

Reason for writing:

    just noticed halloween    

Birth sign: Cancer
Date created: 2001-07-18 06:42:07
Last updated: 2021-03-03 14:44:42
Poem ID: 63953

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