Lauren Goecks

Adv. FP Writing Wrkshp

On Halloween

(poem in two columns to save paper, originally meant as one column)

On Halloween

A skeletal face—the October moon,

illuminates a farmer's land.
Spectral fog stretches

wispy tendrils through cornfields.
Crisp nighttime air is tinged

with hay and stalks.

Pumpkins as large as tricycles

tower over white and yellow gourds

that line the traveled gravel driveway.

Several small children stick

their miniature arms through

wire openings of a fence

that surround a petting zoo.
A lone burro, two head-butting goats,

and a symphony of birds

gather near the eager kids.

The pungent scent of

hot apple cider

invades my nostrils while
popcorn pops and crackles

in a greasy machine.
Glow sticks, for a reasonable price,

will light my way

through the shadowy corn maze.

A freshly-decayed sign

scratched in blood-red script read:
"Beware! Turn back now!"

A gaggle of seemingly tough teenagers

impatiently stand in line for tickets;
they huddle close to shield the chill.
Together they joke,

but inside, anxiety takes over.

Abruptly aware of my knees knocking

against each other like cymbals, I feverishly

wiped the sweat from the nape of my neck.

The exposed skin on my face was red and

chapped from the biting wind.

Screams of surprise and fear

escaped from the ominous maze.
My pulse hammers against

the thin skin of my wrists.
"Next," growled an ugly masked figure.
I took one final breath,

grasped the clammy hand of
my friend, and entered the darkness.