Night loved Day so much, 

she folded back her dark, starlit cloak 

to make more room for Day’s light to bloom 

and spill gold over the World.

The sky spreads itself wide,

a canvas, breathless and unspoken.

As dusk dips its brush in purple and gold.

Each cloud is a stroke,

soft as whispering wind,

Every Halloween, one house on your street stays dark; no lights, no candy, no decorations. The neighborhood kids whisper about it, daring each other to knock, but no one ever does.