All Soul's

Satan Sunday approacheth...

All Souls Night

 

What do I care

For harvest moon

And midnight rambles

I have ghosts of my own to tend

 

They walk on old sod

Wearing faces that

Are gone from me

Holy and unclean

They dance in the

Rhythm of my memory

 

I have no time for sweets

Or carving lanterns

I must make merry with

My shades and shadows

All along the broken fields

They stumble clutching

Murmurs of parties past

In rigid palms

 

You shall not see me wandering

Abroad to market

Or to revels

You shall find me at

My prayers this e’en

That spirits caught in the dips

And turns of frigid recall

Find a home outside

My bolted door

 

-Zoe Richardson (2024)

 

Author's Note

I'll be under the bed with the crucifix and they holy water.

Reviews

[Betty Hermelee]

No merriment for you it seems Zoe; you are caught in your own haunting shadows and ghosts that are forever present… one can find you in your prayers for redemption..are you destined for Hell? These are pretty heavy emotions hanging over you; great writing Zoe
Warmly
B

[Pete]

wow. so deep and telling. the battle 'tween good and evil for our soul. what a great, chilling piece of writing. bravo.