The jack-o-lanterns everywhere
are soggy, saggy, sad.
Their orange skin and guts within
turned rancid, rotten, bad.
The candy loot we earned last night
reduced to sticks and wraps.
It didn’t last. We ate too fast
(and ate too much perhaps).
The decorations: all come down.
The costumes: worn no more.
A count begun of days til fun:
Three hundred sixty four.