All Hallows Eve

            How Shrill the Cries

               Andrew Bauman     

The super moon has waned,

and the wind howls through the leaves

It’s time for souls to re-emerge

murderers, thugs, and thieves.

Go swiftly on your way

live souls, go quickly to your homes

Open the door not for the cries

or knocks and not for moans.

Hold your loved ones close,

so close a cold mist turns away

to drift and float to those who dare

to heed no warning, or not to pray.

The thump of hellhounds paws

resound, their growls and snarls fierce

No door or blanket or hands

on ears, can muffle the silence pierced.

No matter how shrill the cries and

screams echo through the streets

stand fast, stand strong and pray

for those, dragged down in defeat.

The cold air’s still, as dawn

moves ever slowly through the night.

The hunt for fresh souls now has passed

but not the children’s fright.