War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele


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