Writings and Letters of Darius Mitteer Ratcliff
“Hallowe’en”
HALLOWEEN
Its Halloween
And shapes scarce seen
Are darting through the air.
The ghosts are out,
They’re all about,
They’re flitting here and there.
Along the street
With nimble feet,
A crowd of spooks I see
With laughter gay,
They’re off, away,
With whispers fraught with glee.
At twelve o’clock
A frightful knock
Comes crashing through the night,
But when I go
The cause to know
There’s not a soul in sight.
The window next
With no protest
Gives out an awesome shriek,
But when I race
And search the place,
In vain for ghosts I seek.
Sometimes they bring
Near everything
And leave it at my door:
But when I wake
I find they take
As much, and often more.
And when at last
The night is past
I gaze upon strange sights;
A rope is strung
Tree tops among,
And graced with scarlet tights.
A neighbor’s cart
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