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Jack O'Lanterns
May 18, 2009
Halloween, 12 o'clock,
is when everyone is stalked.
I query, stalked by whom,
on this dreadful night of gloom?
Jack O'Lanterns, I reply.
The glow, the glare, the smoky sigh.
Impossible!!! They all sit still.
On a porch, a table, a window sill.
But nevertheless, can you deny a chill?
Nonsense!!! Just pumpkins. Run of the mill.
Now they sit, a thousand grins lit,
but have i been selected the annual kill?
Hark!
Do i hear a candle burn?
I turn.
A light!
One single pumpkin,
in the middle of the road,
in the middle of the night.
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