My October

My October burns like a bonfire,
consuming those decayed things for which
I no longer have need,
turning this wreckage into light
that brings shadows to life.
Speaking in its harsh, brittle language,
crunching and cracking,
my October has secrets to reveal
and will not go down quietly.
My October rises like the dead each year
to remind me that it's still here
as its ghosts whisper from the dark,
beckoning me to stay.