The fall of dust on furniture will deafen you,

Strike a jarring chord in your heart

And everything will still.

The small pixie particles of life will

Wink at you as they twirl in front of

The Cathedral-like crystal window,

With autumn’s sun caressing them

As they fall.


It will be late October –

Your favorite month –

Around the hour when witches

And ghouls take to the streets,

Cackling, swirling and exuding

Their magic for sweets and deep

Belly laughs.


It is then that the ghosts will

Drift down Octobers twilight-lit

Alleys, and his soul will quietly

Slip into an angel’s embrace,

And you will become nothing

But a shell of memories and



First line from the poem “Ordeal” by Nina Cassian


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