When the chill wind blows through rustling trees
and carries the warm spice of dead fallen leaves
crows cackle like a witch's laugh
through empty fields of stalk and chaff
a haunting song
that rolls along
a twisted winding forest path
and opens wide, a gaping grin
to rows of jack o'lanterns nestled in
a quiet sleepy pumpkin patch
and in and out the twisting vines
and from behind the pumpkins peep
spritely, spooks of many kinds
around the pumpkin patch do creep
a lively bunch of playful ghosts
emerge to wink and smile at you
when twilight falls and the moon climbs high
they start their game of peek-a-BOO!
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About the Creator
Sara Little
Writer and high school English teacher seeking to empower and inspire young creatives, especially of the LGBTQIA+ community
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