Why don’t I mind when Hallowe’en is overdone,
when stores stock up and pander to us
the colors, the candies, the costumes, the scares
of Hallowe’en time?
Because that’s what Hallowe’en is, folks.
For the ancients, a time to celebrate harvest
and express hope, through ritual, of a better
crop next year.
For us, a celebration of fright, the good kind (yes,
there is a good fright), the kind that children
can enjoy—and by children, an adult
admission, the child is any of us.
Orange and black, brown, red, and yellow,
colors of fall turned into colors of festivities.
Can it be overdone, over-sold, and over-lived?
This cool season (in the East) we enjoy beyond
the mask, the crafted holes we look through
to see a tunneled, focused world bent on
cheer and scare in equal measure,
I’ll take it, as it is. How much definition is
there, anyway? Wear anything (a pillow with
big holes and elsewhere black—you are a floating
ghostly head), and take the candy courteously
at the front door, in the mall, in the community
hall, or at the party. Enjoy. Enjoy the fright.
Enjoy the minor excess, dependant on the love of
chocolate and dark nights.