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11 Elizabeth Goose in Autumn For Megabeth This far too soon into that late afternoon graying. Thus, the ghostly season assembles once more. How terribly sweet of you to be here now: ancient as smoke, disguised as a sigh, my Halloween schemer beaming anticipation and aftermath: Duck, Duck, Goose: your namesake game played out slippery among leaves, while the half-orange night rises spellbound to shade and echoes hauntingly cold enough for these fatherly shivers. How suddenly the soon-hereafter mystifies sincerely in the wake of windows soaped, pumpkins smashed, until your fine wordfoolery: Zip, zap, zolla— incantation for a gathering of secret smiles. Bewitched, as if one hour soaked in color, we surrender to shadows divinely wicked, ever sure. Dare-stare or pout, let’s deny each other early frost, leaving wet street to other treats and tricks. So you conjure new realm, and then disappearance: Kaboosh! So again within our weathers, nothing else tonight but news of the dark’s dispensations . . . Time now to venture out from under these great eaves during autumns lost forever to hard rain from Paradise. ...

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