The Road To Halloween

Come, walk through October.
Follow the lane,
where gold leaves tumble
like soft autumn rain.

The mornings are wrapped
in silver-gray fog.
The afternoons carry
the last warmth of summer,
and evening walks become
the perfect treat.

The western sky burns like fire
as the sun sinks lower each day,
shifting its place on the horizon,
casting pinks and oranges across the heavens
before handing the sky
to the Harvest Moon.

The gardens grow weary,
their blossoms let go,
while pumpkins grow round
where the last warm winds blow.

The grapes are gathered,
pulled from their vines,
as families prepare
to harvest fine wine.

The cornfields stand bare,
their season complete.
Harvest is humming
its song through the streets.

It's last call for swimming,
for sunshine and lakes,
for long, lazy afternoons,
campfires, and breaks.

The sun rises later,
then slips away soon,
leaving room in the heavens
for stars and the moon.

The streets disappear
beneath mountains of leaves
that gather in drifts
by the porches and eaves.

They blanket the sidewalks
in burgundy red
and dance through the town
where October has spread.

Each week brings more magic,
more mischief, more cheer,
as Halloween's footsteps
draw steadily near.

The houses grow stranger
with every new day,
with skeletons grinning
and ghosts on display.

Scarecrows stand watch
in the flickering light,
while witches appear
on the rooftops at night.

Jack-o'-lanterns sparkle
with crooked-eyed gleams,
like guardians escaped
from forgotten old dreams.

At dusk, people gather
where bonfires burn high,
sending sparks like small comets
that scatter the sky.

They tell spooky stories
and laugh with delight,
then hurry back home
for a long movie night.

Black cats patrol fences
with confident grace,
while shadows move softly
from place to dark place.

A pathway through woodlands
appears without sound,
a road that September
never once found.

The days keep on falling
like leaves from a tree,
October unfolding
exactly as it should be.

Until one final evening
arrives clear and bright,
the crown of the season,
Halloween night.

Costumes come dancing
through laughter and light,
like living-made artwork
parading the night.

Doorbells keep ringing,
the candy bowls call,
as autumn throws
one grand farewell for us all.

Then midnight approaches.
The last ember glows.
The bonfires grow quiet.
The cold north wind blows.

October smiles gently,
then slips out of sight,
leaving memories glowing
long after the night.

And somewhere beyond
the last leaf that falls,
October still waits,
whispering softly,
inviting us back down its road
when autumn calls.