Brocken Spectre

A towering cloud covers

the Walpurgis moon,

a sign, its fullness, on this night

of spirits and witches.

We’ll straddle the fleshy

broomstick then fly astride

the birch to ecstasy.

Thirteen figures cavort

around the burning wood

throwing a giant shadow

on the lofty nimbus.

We are calling sprites and elves,

we cry and moan

as we clutch at ourselves.

Wolves howl, Minerva hoots

we trample the Burgomeister’s boots.

Trumpelstiltskin,

hair unravelled

from gold into flax

sits upon the high chair.

His long shadow hides

the goblins and boggarts

though they peep out

at the light of day.

They howl at the moon

and call the New Dracul “brother”

their close-by kin are now the other.

“The silos will be full again”

the goblin-king talks not of grain.

A louring moon silvers

the mushroomed cloud,

a sign, its thermo-nuclear light,

of our bewitchment.

Footnote: The New Dracul... Stoker's inspiration for Dracula was Vlad Dracul a 15th Century tyrant in Wallachia and Transylvania... go on, you can work it out.