Welcome to Dover PublicationsHalloween
Come on into
this house of
night whoever
you may be. I
am waiting here
with my black
box of words.
Hey, you there,
may have this
one, and, you,
riding your stick
backwards in fast
wind, take this
one here.I am
remembering this
night before All
Saints Day, when
I answered the
door to children.
You are not
children playing
at vampires, or
spooks, pirates,
superheroes,or
hexers spelling
hexerei, but souls
pretending to be
people; this is
really something I
can sense I know,
being myself no
more significant
than you are, who
have no portal
through time but
stand outside with
your tiny treats
and threats and
vague promise--there
waiting on small
sentences, strings
of words--more
than words can be.
Gerald S.
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