HALLOW E’EN

HALLOW E’EN

And soon the reaping time will
come grim grinning tricky Death
with sharpened scythe tread
fields white to harvest
let him . . .

His reward: tares teased burned
dull red coal black cold
ash . . .

Angel-reapers chant
gather home golden sheaves
each full bursting grain a name
writ . . .

And we our invitations
to a future treat hugged close
to breast light birthday candles –
flames dance Pentecostal-like
for each holy head
remembered . . .

David Watson October 2017

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