Sleepless Hills

John Quidor, “The Headless Horseman Pursing Ichabod Crane”

 

 

 I lost my head through no fault of my own
just a case of being in the wrong place
alone at night when the moon is full blown
rising from the shadows seeking my face

riding my steed through the sleepless hills
holding a fiery pumpkin as my light
autumnal northern winds bring ghostly chills
Halloween night ripe with seasonal fright

galloping throughout the land of the dead
chasing strangers who go into the woods
for eternal rest, the quest is my head
be wary of thunderous thumping hooves

revenge is an evil force when untamed
especially, when one's head is unclaimed

dVerse Poetics - hosted by Merril 
the challenge to write a poem about some version of the headless horseman. It’s your chance to escape reality. Base your poem on one of the folktales or create your own tale or urban legend. 

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