Listen. . . With faint dry sound, Like steps of passing ghosts, The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break from the trees And fall. Adelaide Crapsey, “November Night” Related Posts: – “The Return” – Silent Sundays: The Magic of Halloween (1912) – “Burning the Old Year”
“Hallows’ E’en” by Winifred M. Letts The girls are laughing with the boys, and gaming by the fire, They’re wishful, every one of them, to see her heart’s desire, Twas Thesie cut the barnbrack and found the ring inside, Before… Read More ›
I pushed the tangled grass away And lifted up the stone, And flitted down the churchyard path With grasses overgrown. I halted at my mother’s door And shook the rusty catch — “The wind is rising fast,” she… Read More ›
The Year of Halloween 