Dark fall days, night falls early
Mountains loom black, against an indigo sky
First star of the evening, twinkles brightly in the west
People scurry home, like squirrels scampering to their nests
Early Christmas decorations, light up the avenues
Window shoppers gaze expectantly, at toys in store windows
Strangers pass in the night, mouthing holiday greetings
Houses in the neighborhoods, cozy and warm
Yet something’s not right, not quite definable
Could it be something else, too dark to share?
Hiding secrets of the past; tortured memories in today.
Chuck Connors, November 18, 2009