Skies frown upon a fleeting summer
draping clouds of rain and thunder.
Leaving pleats on veils to shimmer
dreams of hollows waiting to stir
fear masked by children’s laughter
Master is here, gather clothes for her:
A gown of shadows in black and silver
from crows that chitter with fervor
trapped beneath a corset of anger.
Thorns are her tiara, mist her slipper.
Shoulders draped with just her hair
enchant clouds to part with glamor
to a touch from her ether finger.
With every step she draws splendor
like bleach washing out color.
Her fingers pierce the veil like a spur
unleashing darkness through a door
trapping time like a dying star.
Clouds form legions to her whisper
thunders roar her anger with clamor
Crows and brooms holler:
Halloween's here, she’s no specter
Make way, bow to her scepter
Lest you cross her you will falter
like your beloved late summer!