Halloween stirs soulless corpses:
Lamps they bear to
set paths free;
Ghouls wander near a sassafras tree.
The shadow of Death
—a stench so gross—
Haunts the spun yarn of grayish moss.
It shrouds a stranded row of crosses,
While pumpkin heads stomp their torches.
Across crossed out losses.
Jack o’ Lantern slumbers.
A lark sings as Magic sinks.
All Saints with hallows surge.
Ghouls purge their yearly sins.
Then drop off behind a church.
Behold, this time next year,
Get ready for the same fear…
Photo by Mausilinda.