All Soul’s Night
KB Ballentine
The veil thins . . . shreds. The dead
and living will mingle this night.
Light shrivels, shadows staking claims.
Sea grumbles in the distance, air surging
salt and winter, gulls quarreling
their way home.
Inland, crabapples wither where they fall,
a few leathered leaves hinged
to baring branches.
No black cats, specters or formless mist
will keep me in tonight—too long
since I last breathed you.
