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November Country

This is the last of the Halloween series this year. I hope somebody out there enjoyed reading them as did I writing them. These poems will be available throughout the year in the poetry section, and it is my intention to publish one for each day of the month plus one for Dia de Los Muertos. In the meantime. Onto the next theme, which is yet to be determined but will be under the heading of this poem’s title: November Country. Enjoy.


Today, out walking,
hunting down solitude
for a while,
or company,
I don’t know,
not anymore.
I saw nobody in
disguise, no
pageantry or costumery
in evidence. And
yet, I still feel this.
I can sense the thrill
of dark energy
that pulses through
me, willing me to
see the things I
can’t normally
I still can smell
the color orange,
and taste acrid
woodsmoke on
the air.
I still see dead
shades of
abounding around
my tired feet and
I still see ghosts
in mailboxes,
children filled with
joy for
the name of the
Standing in November
here at the end of
cold October,
waiting on an
on black
don’t walk sign,
I still see

Published inNovember CountryPoetryThe Halloween Book

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