Ghosts come out during the moonlit day.
Raspy wood protests its burden as ghostly horses neigh.
Silhouettes dance on moonlit walls.
A crisp chill stains the air with smells of fall.
Wet footprints splash across the red-bricked hotel’s floors.
Vacant desks lie under mason ritual and folklore.
Mystery bleeds onto the dusty street.
Ghosts emerge stirring as dancing sheets.
For before long, they will come out to play.
When the ghosts come out in the moonlit day.