The Dead are Coming

A cemetery wouldn’t give me such a fright
in the middle of the day or on any other night.

But I'm sure tonight is Halloween Eve.
I’m walking on eggshells and moist earth.
Careful not to wake anyone so close to the witching hour.

I’ve gotten lost physically and in thought,
thinking of what has become of the names engraved in stone.
I come upon one belonging to an eight year old boy
who is probably as restless in death as he was alive.

The grave beside his catches my eye and stops my heart.
A girl buried with the same name as mine.
I hear leaves crunching under feet and I look behind me.
Now that boy is looking into my eyes and I understand.
The dead have risen and Halloween already began.