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