Hallowmas Eve, by Albert Ahearn Subscribe to rss feed for Albert Ahearn

He stood erect, still and silent
like a wax museum figure
in an inconspicuous nook
hidden in nocturnal darkness.
His long, needlelike canines gleamed
in the moons ebbing subdued light.
Blood red fleshy folds encompassed
these parasitic instruments.
Two grand, black, membranous wings hung
close to his sides, down to his feet.
On a sudden, voices were heard
Trick-or-treaters were approaching,
nearing his ambush location.
With anxious anticipation
his webbed wings began to quiver.
Posted: 2012-10-31 05:33:25 UTC

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