Down in the depths

Of the murky deep

Are the discarded Jack-o’-lanterns

That no one ever keeps


After that night

Called All Hallows’ Eve

When they light up the dark

Until the trick or treaters leave


Then their candles grow dim

And at the chime of midnight

All the Jacks are collected

Under filtered moonlight


By a glowing specter who drops them

In a swamp with no name

Plunk, plunk, plunk

The dark water douses their flames


One after the other

The Jacks sink into the moat

Beneath the fallen tree

Where the autumn leaves float


There they lay in wait

For the same night each year

When a new crop of Jacks

Will slowly sink and disappear

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