A youthful memory conjures the past
of pumpkins and candy that didn’t last.
Like most that age I didn’t know
of the rhythmic ebb of the seasonal flow.
When fall’s first frost made the colors run
the divine and the living were becoming one.
As my age and wisdom and experience grew
I realized just how little I knew.
What’s said and done in the place I’m now in
I know it all starts and ends with Samhain.
