A five year old’s view of Halloween


By Beatrice Dahlen

The doorway’s bathed in dimness
of a pumpkin’s flickering grin.
The portal creaks ajar,
but my feet will not go in.
From somewhere deep within me
a stuttered greeting trips.
So hushed, these noises almost
don’t make it past my lips.
I trip towards promised treasures
there in the yawning door.
I could escape, but cravings
prod me to the fore.
Though fear engulfs my being
I rise to this one feat.
I hold my sack out towards the trove
and stammer ‘Trick or Treat.’

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