One … two … three
One … two … three.
The corn is all crimson, all sticky and served
Not in the kitchen, no.
Mama and Papa don’t know.
One - two - three -
Our sins, our sins
It’s what we deserved.
Where did the grownups go?
Our angel saw us
And they looked so sick-
So pale
Their teeth are like fangs
and arms like bat wings
Their skin was light, translucent.
It didn’t come down from any cloud
It crawled from the well in the corner field
We saw it. They saw it.
It said they weren’t meant to see
Except us - me and Evelyn.
“Evelyn? “
“Yes?”
“What did you pray?
Why did you look down?”
“I wanted to know why the corn is decayed.
I asked the angel to talk to me -
We played a game.”
That tight, fluttery feeling in my chest?
The one Mama calls the Holy Spirit?
I got that feeling, and a voice told me to welcome it.”
I said, “Come in, come in - show me the truth.”
Then it crawled out
Said “no one provides”
Evelyn went quiet. I remember
What we saw
This heinous creature
It killed our parents
And took their blood.
It dipped the corn -
that dead, fly-infested corn
And held it before our faces.
Evelyn isn’t the same. I’m scared but I can’t leave her.
She bows her head and prays
“Thank you for this, our bread, for providing for us, your children -
Amen”
Oh Evelyn.
Why did you say that?
#LavishHalloween2025 #poetry #halloween #spookywriting #horror #halloween
Jeff Richardson
22 days ago 2 repliesChronically Indigigoth
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