Just when you thought the med's were finally working, the melancholia, it starts again!
Yes, we're back again. Just in time to start the Halloween season. It's almost Autumn, and we've had a few cool days here in the smoldering Midwest. Corn stalks and the first pumpkins of the season are already available at the farmers markets. It's noticeably getting darker earlier... and we haven't set the clocks back yet. Summer's death rattle is still giving us a few warm, if not hot, days.
Please join me on this years parade of macabre as I celebrate the past, the dark, the future and the inevitable. If you are new to Where Old Ghosts Play, check out our posts from last year. They are pretty good reread on a dark and stormy night as well!
To kick things off, I'd like to share a piece that my youngest son found and shared with me. It's a year off from hitting way to close to home, yet it's not too dark, it's creepy, kid safe, short and it's gotta be a classic!
Father
By Edward Gorey
Each night Father fills me with dread
As he sits at the foot of my bed
I don't mind that he speaks
In gibbers and squeaks
But for seventeen years he's been dead.
No comments:
Post a Comment