‪Do you remember the dry crunch and the softly uttered schloompfph of leaves? Depending a bit if mist is in town. And the secret cats that stare down like gods awaiting your judgement, high up in neighbor’s windows.

And ominous caws and wind with no discernible direction.‬

‪Now I am thinking of pumpkins getting carved up into jack-o-lanterns, a fireplace roaring against the chilling air, silly dances and badly sung ghostly carols. Come home, sweet October, come home soon.‬

I laid on my back in black green grass and gasped at the fullness of the moon as she saw fit to bless me with attention‬.

‪“How is it your beams so cleanly cut through to my heart?” I asked‬.

‪“You pray to me every night,” came a silk whisper I will never forget, “you built a door.‬

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