A nip in the air.

A chill in my bones.

The Dead will be here.

And in our own homes.


Palm trees will shiver.

The whole ground will quake.

Up from the river.

Or the nearest lake.


Take me far away.

From this creepy place.

Let us run and pray.

Make an about face.


THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist




Night is settling in.

Shadows cover the small town.

A town preparing for the evening.

The sun hides its face.

The moon turns in glee.

Time for it to shine.

Time for it to be king.

Time for the stars to twinkle.

For the stars to serve him.

The town turns darker.

The winds turn colder.

The soft snow begins to freeze.

Ice hangs from the trees.

Frost covers the windows.

All are inside.

All are safe and warm.

From the moon’s games.

Or so they think.

Who will be at its mercy?

Who will be left out in the cold?

Don’t let it be you.



The Path

Follow the path.

To a snow-filled fantasy.

To the family of ducks floating

together in perfect harmony.

To the sun rising for a new day.

To the wispy clouds passing by.

To the chill winds of the morning.

To the soft snow underfoot.

To the magic of snowy mornings.

Breathe in the brisk air and enjoy.