Jack O'Lanterns

May 18, 2009
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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?

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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