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.