OCTOBER AGAIN
C Ra McGuirt
beginning to carve a pumpkin
careful with the knife.
it's sharp, but this
orange shell is thick;
a slip could cost me
stitches or
even a fingertip.
hanging a face
on emptiness
has always been
somewhat dangerous.
form is born beneath my blade.
form is death,&i resigned
this art to rot
when i began
to cut it into being.
so what?
my jack 'o lantern's crooked leer
is worth the candle
every year.
i light it.
we're both smiling
in the dark.
