Horror eulogy in autumn fantasy

Reading stories about obsessions,
strange creatures, ghosts, possessions
loved them all
Hawthorne and Poe

Dickens goes well
Lovecraft till you’re mad,
but I’ll always have a place
for the Master of Universe

the Red King fantasy
will endlessly forever
make shiver my skin
from heaven to hell.

When the leaf falls down

If the leaf come off the tree, it’s not its fault.

Isn’t the wind fault for blowing and blowing tireless, deceitful bringing his whispered tune?

Isn’t the branch fault for shaking with every knock coming from below?

Isn’t the time fault for turning the seasons with his eternal swapping dance?

From the wood the leaf is shot, wavering in the wake of air, lulling in the trembling breeze, gathering with the family remains.

Suddenly a golden carpet on the streets,when you lay  your step down magic is here and the children sing and celebrate, jumping their happiness around.