Blazing thru November moons,
The twelfth month frolicked down;
Devouring vespers of the Halloween monsoons,
And rained fire to dim-lit towns.
We brewed gunpowder haze and caught thrill fever,
While we stripped our calendars bare;
We saw houses and streets collect the cinders,
To make verdant trees with flickering hairs.
There was an ember glowing beneath our beds,
That burned brighter with the days that came;
We hummed the tunes now etched in our heads,
And amused our kins now we only know by name.
We stuffed excitement in our pillows,
As we're dying to open our holiday loots;
Our happiness was still too shallow,
But our smiles lit up the kitchen soot.
The cold winds kept fanning the flames,
The one which fueled our childhood sun;
Until we stopped playing our parlor games,
And our feet grew too cold to run.
Holiday season is never the same when we get older.
