Night of the Headless Horseman
One Halloween night when I was five,
rain pelted city streets, we stayed inside.
Dad lit the Jack-o-lantern candle,
told us the tale of a famous vandal.
One “Headless Horseman” in Sleepy Hollow,
‘twas Ichabod Crane he chose to follow.
Crane ran breathlessly, was terrorized,
(At this point my father’s eyes looked wild).
Thundering behind him through the forest,
the hooves of a horse and a rider headless.
Carrying a sword to strike Ichabod.
(Dad grabbed a spatula, swung it like a rod).
Not just we children but our mother too,
gasped at the thought of Ichabod pursued.
High winds cut off our electrical power
as in our kitchen three children cowered.
Orange light from the pumpkin’s evil eyes
showed Dad seemed to have dematerialized.
The youngest, I felt something run through my hair,
I screamed aloud in horror and despair.
The lit pumpkin fell from table to floor,
darkness as I ran through the kitchen door.
Leaping into bed, pulling up the sheets,
Dad snuck into my room, whispered, “Trick or treat.”
So if you think I am a drama queen,
please realize that it’s all in my genes
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