it seems this is a popular
stopping place for ghosts
every Hallowe’en
I am loving them
they must know it
I’m crazy for this holiday
I race to re-fill the bowls
with tinsel-wrapped sweets
come children inhale with me
this icy almost-winter air
anyone for a taste of my
special goblin cherry wine
it’s spooked not spiked
a skeletal hand dangles from a bush
holding a set of keys
take one if you dare
then come to my stoop
for chocolate kisses
such joy in this
the jangle of young witchy faces
whoops of whooo are yooo
so fully alive while playing dead
even jack ever faithful
still glimmers with his fading candle
long after the troops have gone
hoping for more
one last hoot
before the lights go out
ruth housman