EVIL HARVEST,
by K.A. OppermanThe pumpkins rise from emerald mist,
On bodies of the risen dead;
Past vines and gravestones they persist,
Each revenant with pumpkin head.
A grinning witch-moon, poison-green,
Has pulled the corpses from their sleep,
To wander forth this Halloween
Wherever living vines may creep.
The pumpkins give them dim new life,
With vines that weave through skin and bone.
With them the autumn farms grow rife—
An evil harvest darkly sown.
For every jack-o’-lantern carved,
Another human life must fall—
For grim revenge the gourds are starved,
And from the pumpkin patch, they crawl.
