Autumn winds blow, I walk to and fro listening to noise in the world below.
Church bells ring, so sleepy ghosts can keep track of time, and prepare
for the winter ahead. I hear snickers and guffaws—are they making fun of me?
Don’t boohoo for us, they seem to say—we sleep soundly down here,
and awaken for visitors who show up only once a year.
But we know how to party when no one’s around.
Come on down, whenever your time’s up—and be ready, for a real hoot
with unlimited drinks of fermented dandelions, and lots of acorns,
mushrooms, and dried berries to munch on.
No need for toilet paper. We have lots of dry leaves.
But do bring your luminescent crossing guard jacket to help direct the traffic jams,
with worms going this way and that through all the underground tunnels they build.