Through misty morn and golden haze, dawns a month, October.
With glittering air and black cat’s stare, a Hallowed month, October.
Pumpkins, apples, leaves and fire, harvest in October.
Magic dwells and memories swell, a cursed day in October.
She wore her white, he wore his black, bound together there.
And as the leaves – dead – rustling past,
We leave that memory there to stay,
On that one chilled October day. No longer looking back.
© 2017 Lauren Huyser. All rights reserved.