Specters

autumn wind blew strong and the night leaves
cast shadows like hands scratching ground
the sounds were the sounds of old echoes
who whispered their way into terrified ears
while hearts feared all the trees would come down

the moon hid unlit behind black sky
mars, red-faced, escaped his jailed form
the giant was there, nonetheless
and his essence escaped, away, light years to fly
through that sky's dark and grey crying clouds

all went silent, still the stiff purple gown
those robes of the goddess, now torn
released with screeches goblins and ghouls
who giggled and gasped as they dropped to the earth
and invaded soft minds with their words

that emerged from the still and silent
all words spinning like tops across floors
the words were the lines of old poets
refusing to stay in some dusty old books
now allowed to recite at midnight

the fall winds wound down after midnight
nevermore a word to be heard
for a year and a minute they'd have to wait
and back into their tombs and tomes they went
until books could fly open once again