Octobers' End Poem by Bernard Kennedy

There are ghouls and witches,
there, in that place,
For I have seen faces sharp,
and broomsticks, balaclava,
and unforgiving tone of the harsh
unwelcoming puritan,
the prodigals brother, peering from the field,
in through the window,
to the fathers welcomed son.

For it is end Autumn,
mellow, and time of sadness,
and leaves, falling
and gathering, on the ground,
Into compost possibility,
faded colors no longer bright,
lifeless.
Although the Virginia creeper
blushes a last
smile of red,
and lets in the robin.

Into fog time,
and walking around the park,
and the bare trees with
sleeping root, remembering.
Wistful remembering,
before awaiting,
the visit of,
the Father's Son
and then Spring,
and Resurrection.