Autumn’s cool air turns falling leaves to crimson and gold.
The leaves scatter about by blustery winds.
Some still cling to the branches of trees,
So tricked by stubborn warm days,
That is summer’s lingering ways.
And ghostly forms catch a ride
Onto airborne leaves.
Their hurried quest
Is to escape their faith
On All Hallows Eve.
Now you can hear their howls
Above the fierce winds;
So relentless
Their mission of flight
To depart this haunting night.
Then the light of a new day
Beckons anew.
All the phantoms of darkness
Slowly fade from view.
And silence shares the morning dew.
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