The sky blushed a ring of scarlet light Dusk had spread its mantle, the air damp Fright night below, trick or treat Played as in the past A black velvet bat perched on the church roof As the clock chimed midnight The floor inside the nave red with blood The local priest lay spread out A ghoulish version of the bat above Who, among the faithful disliked the sermon? Who felt his sins exposed? Who worried that Father John Was about to break the confessional vow? Who among the meek and mild Had so much to hide? Let the trial by whispers, the pointing fingers Begin… © Anita Dawes 2021
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