A November Haunting

Halloween

Has come and gone

Leaving us with its

Vicious little demons

The howling wind

Screaming down the chimney

Like a banshee

Brittle twigs

Whipping along the windows

tiny scratching claws

of desperation

A wolf howl

Through the eaves

The cloying damp touch

Of dead leaves

Ice cold drizzle

Down th...

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The Mound

It started way back when I was a child

One cold November night in sixty-four

Old furniture and windfall from the trees

Piled high into a mound of combustibles

Each year new kindling was added to ashes

That had smudged the verdant back garden lawn

Layer upon layer added to the blackened hill

That was gradually growing towards the sky

One year I lo...

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