War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele

spooked

green man this year
your mom and dad turned out porch lights
locked the door, no appetite for tricks
little chocolate bars, ghoul or ghost;
this Halloween it’s all too real—
blood-soaked bandages, the screams—
oh my God, David,
a car. rolling slowly slowly up our street
flashlighting addresses
oh my God
do I imagine do I hear
the telephone ring ring ring?


About This Page

The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled spooked. It was posted here on October 31, 2009.

·

Complete diary archive