It's Halloween, poetry written by Ingrid Wilson at
David McCumskay

It’s Halloween

It’s Halloween

written by: Ingrid Wilson



A fire crackles in the grate,
a witch cackles, the wind swings open the cemetery gate.
It’s Halloween, and yet
there is no cry as monstrous
as the roar of wildfire burning up the earth,
there is no witches’ brew as bitter
as the toxic sludge and algal blooms
we pour into our water,
no curse as potent as the one
we’ve placed upon ourselves,
no spell to break it, no magic that
will fill the empty shelves
or house the displaced billions when the oceans, swelling, rise:
it’s Halloween, a true fright night but please
don’t close your eyes.

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