Fog curls round the Taxus baccata
Gravestones wear a coat of Cladonia
Candle flickers in the attic window
Night blooms wake from deep dormancy
Roots drink deep the midnight air
Soil breathes slow beneath the stone
Every seed knows what walks there
Halloween claims what it has grown
Moss cushions the names carved in marble
Ferns unfurl where shadows convene
The botanist records each subtle marvel
Data logged in graphite and green
Roots drink deep the midnight air
Soil breathes slow beneath the stone
Every seed knows what walks there
Halloween claims what it has grown
Pumpkin vines recall the harvest burning
Cucurbita pepo holds the flame
Attic candle keeps its steady turning
Light maps out each Latin name
The yew trees murmur through their needles
Taxol secrets in the bark
No ghost disturbs these ancient settlers
They've witnessed every passing dark
Candle gutters as the dawn approaches
Fog retreats from row on row
The botanist closes her notebook pages
Another cycle sown below
Roots drink deep the midnight air
Soil breathes slow beneath the stone
Every seed knows what walks there
Halloween claims what it has grown
Specimens pressed in archive silence
Voucher sheets hold Halloween's trace
Roots remember through the seasonal violence
Life persists in this haunted place
Roots drink deep the midnight air
Soil breathes slow beneath the stone
Every seed knows what walks there
Halloween claims what it has grown
The herbarium holds its own
Midnight herbarium stands
Roots keep watch on hallowed lands
