As always the night came
embracing young corpses,
the blue wind smiled
but never said 'Hi',
ghosts ran in discount espadrilles
laying purple haze on woods and lakes.
A tangerine elf
called us by name
to visit the Ukrainian mist-
there is a rumor the witches
are throwing a party,
don't get excited
we have to blend in.

As tales of horror end quite suddenly,
I'll pause my pen and sketch 'Bye, bye':
the dark has never been darker,
or colder as the wizard's snowflake,
to be remembered for children's sake-
what's left behind, in secret corners,
are jingle bells and nagging cookies.