Batty Moon

The moon
Is bats
With albino wings
They cling together
Patiently waiting
For the air to chill
The fog to drift in
For the leaves
To turn red
Then they fall apart
Capturing the glow
Of the stars
Scream upon the night sky
Until chills
Collect upon skin
And streak across the heavens
Drawing a line
For the witching hour
And signaling
For the ghosts and ghouls to play

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