You are using an outdated browser.
Please upgrade your browser
and improve your visit to our site.
Skip Navigation

The Widow's Halloween

August 21, 1976

Frederic J. Brown/AFP/Getty Images

The pumpkin's hollow head returns her gaze;

His yellow eyes are dancing in the flame.

And she, she has him on her window sill

Within a draft that flickers on his brain.

His jagged smile and diamond eyes

Are mirrored in the darkened panes.

Set to be seen, not see, to blaze before the wind

Or wither on the wick and snap black out.

Grinning backwards into the room.

On either side and looking in.

His gaze, she feels, was sharply cut

To burn beneath her dresses' hems

Or follow her when reaching for the broom;

She wears the latest fashions as her age

But feels the flicker of his gaze

And will not pass near him.