Oh these two-candle mornings

post-Samhain

the ephemeral veil

between us and the beloved dead

thickens once more

folds over and into itself

leaving us to walk toward these darkening days

accompanied only by the living.

Down in the street

boys have tied a string of cans to a dog’s tail

chase after him

laughing

as he tries to run away from it.

Our clanking plagues.