The ravens come. An oak tree filled with autumnal-colored, yet shriveling, leaves stands on a stretch of fading grass. The birds perch on its outstretched limbs and on the ground before it.
The Morrigan follows her flock. Pale, black haired, a carnivorous smile across her gaunt, cadaverous visage, she spreads her right arm to her corvids. Their cawing draw forth memories: The shared laughter on beer-stained couches with college friends. The quiet conversations with new, post-college friends over coffee at dark-wood, trendy coffee bars. The colleagues of schools past.
All gone, now.
Sorrow deepens. The Celtic Goddess of war laughs, the last twilight fading, as the most insidious of fears comes forth.
With only myself to blame…
loneliness…
the last trick-or-treaters
this Halloween
I’m hosting Haibun Monday over at dVerse. We write about Halloween.
The Pub is open! Come join us!
Frank J. Tassone 
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