There once was a Leaf – all withered and sere.
All withered and sere?
Prophetic and seer.
And the Leaf – all confused and sere.
Spoke to the Pumpkin that could hear with no ear.
Hear with no ear?
Vega-telepathy my dear.
“Where did Josh go?”
Asked the leaf to the Jack O’Lantern squash.
“He sped out of Springfield post haste.”
Sped with all haste?
October leaves few cinnamon-scented seconds to waste.
“Of Josh I do know, that he flew to the north.”
Said the Pumpkin, grin all aglow.
Grin all aglow?
Candles tend to glow.
“To find him, catch a wind, catch a chill.”
A wind and a chill?
So leafy sails do fill.
And the Leaf – all gray-garbed and sere.
Gray-garbed and sere?
The clouded horizon was not clear.
And the Leaf caught a wind in the ashen sky.
Cold and strong like an ice demon’s sigh.
And the Leaf flew to Eureka – all maroon and gold.
Maroon and gold?
One-hundred and fifty years old.
And the Leaf fell and the Leaf did fall,
And watched me watching a play on Friday.
You don’t say?
I do say. They performed Our Town,
And they did it fantastically great, from beginning to final call.
To final call?
I’m very proud of them all.
And then Torrie and Kris and Wil and I went to the dark labyrinth with a bottle of rum.
And there we laughed and drank a large sum.
A large sum of rum?
Gotta love the rum.
And three more men of Doetsch did join us – drinking the Pepsi-rum swill.
And Wil spied some people foolin’ around just past their window’s sill.
Saturday found me driving north, me and Wil.
You and Wil?
Only one “L” and he’s filled.
And the Leaf – all hurried and sere.
Hurried and sere?
Followed and entered, again, into the whippoorwill chill.
And the Leaf flew and followed, fell and followed, fell and did fall through Fall’s ashen skies.
And the Leaf spied on Will and I at Volo Bog, full of phantasmagoric fog.
And we listened to a storyteller tell ghost tales, he was gray-bearded and sere.
And the kiddies giggled and feared, but I fear, it grew cold and frigid winds did sear.
The winds did sear?
Stabbed needle into my ears – colder, I say, than the frozen lake where the Devil doth sit.
Beneath the circle of fire and the circle of shit – his faces chewing with no elation
Brutus and Cassius and Judas – unholy mastication.
But I digress…It was all worth it, the ghost stories were good I suppose.
But we froze and froze and froze.
You froze?
I think Wil lost his nose.
Oh bloody Hell!
I think he might find it, in the place where he stowed that spare “L”.
And then, Sunday, we drove south, the Leaf followed in the ashen sky’s mouth.
In Alton, a tour of ghosts we walked, Wil and I and Torrie and Amy and Jeramie and others still.
Others still?
There are many who will, though we only had one, one “L’ed” Wil.
And in a dank cellar, where shady wraiths play and haunt and sing.
I spooked Jerm and Amy, with my phone’s Halloween-themed ring.
Electronic music echoes through their dusky dark dreams.
And we bolted back North and the Leaf – all confused and sere.
Confused and sere?
Crackly and sere – found me, Monday, back at Eureka.
There I walked, I was Cerf Center bound.
To research, for a story, and ponder curious volumes of forgotten folklore,
About wicked pumpkins and things that move in the night without a sound.
But before I got in, I was spied by Karisa, from just past her window’s sill.
Spotted and recognized at that.
Recognized at that?
She saw my black hat.
And, inside, Tara did pass.
Tara did pass?
And I spoke to the lass, but merely a moment alas.
And the Leaf watched from a window and noted my notes,
On my not-finished story, “Vampire Jack.”
Morbid homework concluded, I watched the double feature in Becker.
Nosferatu and Shadow of the Vampire – what a scream.
Eighty year old flicker-flash phantoms of the dead on the screen.
The dead on the screen?
A silent form of immortality it would seem.
And then with a rush and a peddle push and some gas,
I drove home and the Leaf flew home.
And the Leaf – all withered and sere.
Withered and sere?
Just the refrain my dear.
The Leaf – withered and sere, found the Pumpkin that could hear with no ear.
“Pumpkin, I followed Josh and he drove this way and that.”
And Leaf told the tale as the two vegi-matter bits sat.
“And Pumpkin, you’ll appear in his unfinished story, ‘Vampire Jack.’”
“I appear in his story?” asked the Pumpkin straight back.
“Where? Oh where do I appear?”
“It’s hard to say without giving it away, I fear,” said the Leaf with a squeal.
“It’s one of those super surprise ending sort of deals.”
And the Leaf flew away.
And the Pumpkin glowed.
And the Leaf still blows.
And the pumpkin still glows.
Joshua Alan Doetsch 