October is sweet.
Surprisingly so, for he is a child of the night.
He resides where shadows keep their secrets.
He rests, protected by their yawning shade.
One. Two. Three.
There goes October, scrambling all around.
He is a child playing and dancing in the moonlight.
Though, his ancient eyes are ever wandering about.
Ah, sweet October has come to roost at last.
His lids, droopy yet filled with unimaginable fright.
What could he have he seen at night?
Could he have feared the arrival of light?
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