Where did you go on an early Sunday morning? Among big wigs, plastic masks and covering white sheets you stumbled around anonymously. But I would have followed like a hidden camera to see you running to catch your breath. What did you find in that room with a view? Overlooking the city that hovers like your ghost where ghouls wait to greet you and the witches brew is tasted, but I heard a spell that was cast into your ear. Where are you now as the days push us near? Halloween is dressed up like a bad memory this year taunting your favor like a de-ja-vu reborn, but I can still remember what a time it was to have you with us.
October 29, 1999