PINEAPPLE LIGHTHOUSE

October In Abu Moonlight

I remember you all at a garish
Halloween party.
We don our masks.
The Little Tramp. Varushka.
Alice In Wonderland. The Devil.
Fanny. The Milkmaid.
With the interlude at a standstill
I dream we all laugh generously
and rejoice that ghosts take
on the inner voices of angels in
brief silence with angles of shadows.
Open the door to our haunting profiles.
Bring the light
to our faces.
Let the giants pick us out,
fondle our small, bony skeletons.
Let many genuine lines of
hard-fought sentiment lie in mercy
for our sacred souls to bear
the truth.