As a teenager, I knew Halloween,
or thought I did until I came here.
The lady at the door was a sight to behold,
with garlands round her head and a flowing white robe.
“What a lovely costume you have,” I said.
“Like an ancient priestess of the Celtic isles.”
“This is no mere costume,” she replied.
“I divine in the woods all year long.”
“Now look at the treats I have for your bag.
Note they’re not sweets but toys for your play.”
“You’ll never see another Halloween.
I mean never one better than this.”
I peered into a deep black cauldron,
filled to the brim with seasonal charms.
I pulled out a scarecrow of cloth, sticks and straw.
I grabbed a witch, a goblin and voodoo doll.
My bag quickly filled up with small toys,
while the Druidess hovered near by.
Then she pulled a sharp sickle out of her robe
and swung it three times high in the air.
She swiftly walked behind me
and slammed shut the heavy oak door.
She turned and looked at me straight in the eyes,
with a deathly visage out of nowhere.
“Now eat every last one of those toys.
Only then will you ever go home!”
Faced with such a demonic threat,
I reached for my inner vampire.
I flashed my shiny sharp teeth
and bit the arm with the sickle.
Screaming, shoving, then I’m fast on my way home,
clasping a bag of bloody treats … and the sickle too.
Gary Davis enjoys exercising his imagination through crafting dark and darkly humorous haiku and other forms of poetry. He finds haiku, in particular, both challenging and fun. Writing haiku is like doing a miniature Zen painting and, when you look at the painting, seeing something unexpected (and maybe scary in the case of horrorku). Mr. Davis has published haiku in Tales from the Moonlit Path, Scifaikuest, Star*Line, and Lupine Lunes (2016-2021). He has published other poetry in Tales of the Talisman, Bloodbond, Illumen, Spaceports & Spidersilk, Zen of the Dead and a sci-fi anthology, Kepler’s Cowboys (2014-2021).