I glimpse washing
Dripping into daylight
As the moon fades
Wind and rain shower
Trees sway
On this formless
Holy-day.

Light tucks away dream
I see
Children - washed, tired, pale, poor - 
They know it's All Hallows Eve
I know it too.

Tired ghosts forget to rise
Again witches tumble into day
As all magik drains away.
Clogged motors roar
As mist lifts.
Curtains dragged apart
Electric lights the morning.
Dead bees' corpses
Crumble into day.

The street cleaner's barrow
Stuffed full of leaves.
In famine times the dead leaves
Were eaten by the dead children
As fat priests blessed themselves
With ample housekeepers.
So many inscriptions unread
So many dead.
The unclear light
Of full awakening muddies us
As we recall this day of the dead.