Ghosts march freely
Up the lane,
Carrying bags weighted with
Formed and branded sugar.

We smile about that.

About the honesty and innocence
Crowding our door step.
The shuffling – the scuffling – for position.

To knock or ring?
That –
Is the question.

“Trick or treat.”
The time-honored call.

You’d think that eventually there’d be
A Shakespeare or a Longfellow
Among the bunch who would
Think of something new to say.  

But in the meantime
“Trick or treat” will do.
A comfortable phrase, in fact.

Now it’s our turn.

Load ‘em down.
Load ‘em down with so much candy
That half if it will be
Thrown away after
Sitting in a bag for three months.

That’s what this day is all about.
That, and wonder.

We slowly close the door
As the Martians and the goblins
And the presidents and the movie stars
And the killers and the princesses
Fade from the neighborhood.

Twenty Halloweens have passed together
And I still love you.

That’s kind of spooky.




Halloween
© 2008    Mark Pearce