Hold onto the Lie

The trees like scrub scratch at the white sky.

Hold onto the Lie

Amber glow through from a darkened room, 
a finger cloud crossing the October moon.
Summer’s gone and winter’s coming soon.
The trees like scrub scratch at the white sky,
which descends now and filling my tired eye.
While time tells the truth, I hold onto the lie.

The kids in their costumes going door to door,
bought for them at the …