Trick

A house stands upon a shady hill,

As night fell, the wind was still.

An eerie glow from the stars and moon,

Throughout the yard, debris was strewn.

How long it’s stood empty, I cannot say,

Once bright, I’m sure, now pale and gray.

Strange noises wreaked havoc with my mind,

As I witnessed a figure behind a blind.

That’s crazy, I whispered, there’s no one there,

This vacant shell in complete disrepair.

When a pale apparition stared down at me,

From an upstairs window behind a tall oak tree.

Clad in white with long hair and a solemn face,

Silently imploring, wanting out of this place.

Were my eyes playing tricks along with my ears?

Struggling with myself to confront my fears.

Scary movies foreshadow this cannot end well,

Myriad secrets the dead can—and do—tell.

Not wanting the same fate as the ghost I saw,

Yet curiosity was my fatal flaw.

I slowly approached and rang the doorbell,

Fearing the clamor was my own death knell?

The sound of footsteps behind the door,

A turning knob chilled me to the core.

But I couldn’t make myself turn and leave,

How apropos on this All Hallows’ Eve.