I slug ice water in the November heat.
Mosquitoes buzz and bite while
I scrape the last seed
From a jack o lantern
Words. I never thought I would put
in the same sentence
Pumpkin carving and skeeters.
Stale sulfur slices hot north gusts
As coal fired sugar beet mountains
Fuel trick or treaters to speed through
Candy routes. Sugar coated wrappers
On their way to landfills or open sea
Rusted leaves rattle sadly.
Ghosts Of trash bags. Past
Clinging to branches.
Withering spectral fingers reach
To the zillion plastic election signs waving
Weaving in wind. whispering to the sky
I’ll be with you soon. soon
On the Day of the Dead
And Oceans Die