They Are Not Home

Wintry night,they are not home Street bare, glacial faces roam Foothill creepy frigid and cold Gnomes are busy with their gold. They are not home,hours drip Like yellow jackals,owls' trip Brooks sleep under icy cream Glow worms shiver in their dream. They are not home, latches click Wind pounds the door old and sick Dismal moon is on the wane Flies are stuck on windowpane. They are not home, they never were The house is built for ghost I swear.