Halloween

 

She’s thirteen.

It’s Halloween.

“Dad, I’m not going trick or treating this year.”

Stunned. Not quite as bad

As when she caught me years ago

Putting the money that the fairy

Left back under her pillow.

“I’m just checking to see if

He left you enough.

That was an important tooth.

Could have been a mixup”

 

She didn’t believe me.

 

But pretty bad.

“I have a party to go to.

And anyway, I’m too old.”

“You’re dressing up though?

“Yeah, I’m going to be an angel.”

Thank God.

 

I offer to make a tin foil halo.

I have a lot of experience at that.

“No thanks, Dad.”

 

But on Halloween

“Hey, the party’s at seven.

Want to go – just down the street?”

She does. At six it’s dark.

A tiny skeleton down the street.

A perfect moon

A too cold wind.

 

I wait as she walks up steps.

Then down the street to a few houses.

White gown, one wing a bit crooked

And anyway too small. Never fly on those wings.

 

And then the Witch Tree

An old, a twisted oak, bare and bent

Just as is required!

 

“Remember the Witch Tree?”

 

“Yeah, we better go.”

 

“Didn’t you write a story about it?

A witch who lives under it…?”

 

“Yeah, we better go.”

 

And she hurries up the street.

Get to the party.

 

I stay for a second. I have something to say.

 

Not talking to the monsters everywhere else.

 

Looking round. Watching her go away.

 

Getting ready to catch up.

 

“I’m still here you goddamn witch.

 

I’m still here.”