Same old Samhain

Rising from the endless depths

to see these

celebrants of bloodcurdling

horror and macabre death

appropriated from

the ancient Celts

and Indigenous present.

The weight of wisdom

inexplicably inciting

excited misguided

attempts to be other

but sexy,

trying on wicked outfits

ignoring the lurking

tropical storm just humming

in the perfect conditions off the coast.

The oceans get warmer and we

continue our blind imitations.

Samhain at sunrise

bonfires lit in darkness

the liminal time

to host our dead.

The gateways are open

and so our young don

their superhero capes

knocking on the doors

of our hearts, asking for sweet

mercy, and we fill their questing

hands with poison

the slow death of sugar

as we try to align ourselves

from the outside in,

and we find our costumes

just don’t fit.

 

Written for the #OctPoWriMo prompt Endless and inspired by: wicked, bloodcurdling, dead, weight and tropical.

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

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