It kneels by a bedside, It kills without remorse,
and in a pool of moonlight, feasts upon a corpse.
Its coiled tongue scoops up blood into Its open maw,
Tendons slide off the bone, Its talons rip and claw.
Once the carcass is plucked clean, It bundles up the rest, and creeps up the hidden ladder to Its attic nest.
copyright Oct 2017 Deanie Roman
The harvest moon obscures the night, when All Hallow’s Eve is Nigh.
Beware the witch as she takes flight, a shadow in the sky.
She seeks the souls of the young, currying favor with her Master. The promise of fear, blood and tears propels her gnarled broom faster.
Bar the door! Draw the shades! Gather your children near!
Or, be the one to bear witness, when the witch appears.
copyright 2017 Deanie Roman