In keeping with the Halloween motif, I added a Halloween poem, “Dwelling in His Shadow,” to Poetry Archives. Penned in 1982, the poem was inspired by sleeping outside on Halloween night. Since I went to college on top of a mountain, it was a quiet evening, far from the cries of trick-or-treaters.
I welcome trick-or-treaters, by the way. I’ve donned my share of costumes on October 31. I’ve taken pictures of my children in Halloween costumes for 20 years. But I prefer a kinder, gentler Halloween — if that is not a contradiction in terms. Even “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” is too dark for my taste, aside from Snoopy’s turn as the WWI flying ace. Carving pumpkins, dressing up, greeting neighbors: that’s my definition of Halloween. Although I dislike ghouls and ghosts, I will confess that I loved the Halloween songs I learned in elementary school. Sung in a mysterious minor key, “Black and Gold” and “Stirring Her Brew” had a strange appeal. And, as you can see from my son’s Ron Weasley costume, we like Harry Potter and his friends at my house. Inconsistent, right? On with the masks and out with the candy!