Laid upon the altar
open pages of the Book
echo hollowness.
Send me to my cellared mind
to explore.

Large cabbages
hang by their roots from rafters –
giant spiders
webbing the air.
Pumpkins and squashes
stare out – ghoulish grins
line the damp dirt walls.

A shiny cream can
filled with parsnips and rutabagas
hunches like a silver ghost
ready to snatch me as I pass.

I go to the field
to pick berries for a pie.
Misty clouds
hang above the patch.
Reaching in the thicket
I prick my finger on a thorn.
Clusters of berries lure me deeper –