Arch

The road to winter's arched with leaves,
and lined with skulls, ghosts, and spiders
that brighten as the cold wind reaves.

With withered grass, the garden grieves
the sun becoming quieter,
the road to winter's arched with leaves.

The decorations fall conceives,
nocturnal concert of lighters
that brighten as the cold wind reaves.

Electric ghosts the sun reprieves
laugh and mock death as divider.
The road to winter's arched with leaves.

All harmless fun, the town believes,
haunts itself with headless riders
that brighten as the cold wind reaves.

The rustling windy brush achieves
Painting trees amber like cider.
The road to winter's arched with leaves
that brighten as the cold wind reaves.