October Ghosts

Mud casts no reflections in the nightmarish fog There are ghosts in the corn fields after harvest Resurrecting fear in the hearts of children Masked apparitions, beggars of candy small Meandering on the viral cobbled paths As little monsters come to call Real horror rises in the inner city Housing complex doors wait for knocks Tiny fists wake up the living dead Poverty-ridden souls inside have little to offer And less to give Autumn slides into Winter sideways Between the cracks of bricks night falls Between the invisible crime on the streets October calls and children listen