There’s a woman selling pumpkins
and gleaming carving knives.
She’s selling rose-red apples
and tricks for stealing lives.

The black birds call her mother.
The wolves bring her fresh meat.
The spiders weave her dresses.
She calls them all,”My sweet.”

There’s a woman selling pumpkins
and she calls herself a queen.
She rules the spirits of wayward hearts,
and her night is Halloween.