All Saints Day

is a pumpkin rotted through,
a sad sunken face, backlit
with bits of mold.

A skeleton suit lays crumpled
on the floor, foam bones
sewn to black spandex.

The cat opens the cabinets
while we sleep,
our poltergeist.

This year nothing
can scare me.

May we let loose our wild ghosts,
linen sheets whisked by wind, amen.

May we dance in circles,
split logs, light fires, amen.