The moon lanterns
swing in the wind--
tethered sprites
above a carpet
of crisp, curled
october leaves.

Painted wagons
huddle, abandoned.
mystery encroaches,
A curious shadow
pads near with
curious deliberation.

Families in coats
and bright blankets
circle the pots
upon the fire
dipping bowls
breaking bread.

The shadow lifts
its just washed
whiskered face
to taste the wind
cat eyes catch fire
fey and strange.

Cursed familar,
Ancient god,
Honored mouser,
Woodland spirit--
seeking appeasement
beneath a hunter's moon--

I greet you.
come and steal
an offering
from my hand
as I count
the distant stars.