Once dense thicket, coppiced
To bear a cornucopia filled with
Indian’s Summer rare blood moon.

The All-Hallows summer extends
As Samhain comes closer
Recognizing, celebrating the ever coming.

Wide leaves writhing and crunching from
Deciduous oaks as they bare to nothing.
Crushed grass and brush uncover a
Light trail leading to preserved boscage.

Through the dense brush
Untouched water thickens  
From frosty moons bite.

Seizing gossamers flight
The soft breeze harshens
For long nights moon is soon near.