Well, it's November and the Halloween Season is over, all five nights of it. All through October, I've been serializing a story-or-prose-poem I wrote on leaves. Here it is, in its entirety:
The North Wind Speaks
My sister comes rustling through the birch woods. Gentle she is, but restless, aloof, and intent on her search.
What is the East Wind looking for? If only she’d tell us! She has a thousand brothers and we are all devoted to her welfare. Is it a faithless lover? We’ll track the bastard down and kill him. A lost child? As good as found and returned. The answer to a cunning riddle posed her by a sphinx? We know everything there is to know.
But when we ask, our sister does not answer. She shakes her head, smiles sadly, and moves on.
And in her wake – rain.
Above: The jack-o-lanterns have disappeared from the porch, leaving behind two pumpkin ghosts.