On Hallows Eve: The Night of the Walking Dead

On All Hallows Eve

by

John Taylor Jones

My mother said, “You must go now.
Father will want his bread.”
“But it’s dark out there,” I said to her.
Tis’ the night of the Walking Dead.

“Oh, Shaw,” she said, “There’s no such thing
As the night of the living dead.”
I said, “I’m taking my baseball bat.”
She said, “It rolled under the bed.”

She was laughing as I opened the door to the street.
The wind was blowing the willow tree.
The moon was rising, a witch across flying,
That was all so real to me.

I walked along the cobblestone lane,
Each step to me was awful pain,
Cuz I knew they were out there looking for me.
I tried to be brave but Mr. Fright ran free.

And then from the cemetery up the road
Came a really gigantic hopping toad.
I knew my mind was tricking me
‘Til a newspaper blew over my face and I could not see.

When I pulled it away
With one quick toss,
There was a dead man standing.
All was lost!

Then I heard a voice
As I bolted away,
“Where are you running, Lad?”
It was Master Gray

I smiled at him
As I lowered my bat.
‘Tis nothin’, Sir.
Just killin’ rats.”

That’s when we saw
The Walking dead.
I was behind
Master Gray, ahead.

And father never
Got his bread!

copyright 2013 John Taylor Jones

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