The Dead,
never forgotten,
roam the streets & countryside freely
on November 1st.
Some of us can clearly see who they are—
During the Hallowed time
we protect ourselves
from being taken
from this world,
when the veils of perception
between the Spirit world & ours
are the most faint
by disguising ourselves
to be anyone else
than what we actually are—
& the Dead
want to join the party.
They want
to be welcomed,
to be embraced,
to be loved,
to be remembered.
It’s a pleasant,
cool November morning.
The Dead
relish being almost alive again,
waiting to sit at the family table
& to sit down at the family graves.
The living
who are brave,
they paint their faces
& light candles,
wanting, remembering, being.