proceed to the root (part two)

part one

the day after

Walked out to my car this morning
and found a little plastic dagger abandoned on the driveway
no doubt belonging to the one trick-or-treater who came to the door before it was dark
before his parents could discern that no Kit Kats, no teeny Mr. Goodbars,
no Hershey's kisses wrapped in silver foil
would be found at this house,
the one with no pumpkins on the porch.

I like to think he dropped his little dagger in excitement to get to the next house.

I like to think we didn't disappoint him.