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ALL HALLOW EVE: THE MIDNIGHT HOUR
©Olan L. Smith, October 31, 2025
Decayed flesh restored as the midnight hour tolls.
Rash children rush home as all hallowed eve looms,
Yet, the valiant stay watchful to witness conversion
Of the dead—they haunt the streets of Port James.
The ship was sunk—all souls were lost. The doomed
Rise from the waters, some in chains, while others still
wrapped in what they wore that fateful night in 1775.
Fable has it—if you're found walking near the dock,
They will take you into the midst of the departed, and
You will not be seen until the next century's hallowed dawn.
Jim Lock, it is said, vanished at midnight on November
1925—This All Hallows' Eve, be it your neighbor, or be it you?
YOU ARE READING
Bird's Eye
PoetryA new collection of poems written by Olan L. Smith starting 2023; all right's reserved.
