byWay deep within gigantic pumpkin patch
he sits on throne of broken upturn’d grave
stones decorated with glowing skulls that scratch
with shiny teeth and tiny hands that wave.
Two apple core-like hands and shriveled head
wear orange cape with spark’ling, black top hat.
Pieces of tattered suit whip tendril’d threads;
His necklace pulled-out teeth from stray black cats.
Thin ghosts flow like thick fog around his boots,
Giant albinic bat on shoulder perch.
His cloven-hoofed feet dance, calling recruits—
Red eyed, corn-candy skeletons that do search
For bonfire witch dust thrown into moonlight
Spring horn’d tentacles for Samhain birthright.
