The crows are agitated

As they pause,

And perch,

On Partridge Island.,

Before they continue

On their way


Wherever that might be.

They spook

Paw the kitten,

Black as a crow

With one white mitten,

Who has been looking

At the moon,

Over his shoulder,

These last few nights

Before he comes in.

As it gets more,

And more,


Lighting the


To the Ghost’s night,

When the Dead


From the

Other Side,


All Hallows’ Eve.

I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}DE BA. UEL