There’ll never be a Halloween when my brothers and I don’t think of Mom. She loved everything about fall, especially getting spooky in late October.

In addition to decorating the house and loading up on apple cider, Mom got a lot of use out of this witch hat:

We liked that photo so much, it reappeared as a pillow, which Mom treasured:

It’ll be years before I run out of Halloween poems from Mom. She wrote a bunch!

All Hallows Eve

Witch in the window, scarecrow at the door,
wicked old pumpkin lighting the hearth,
gourds in the dining room, gingerbread ghosts
stare by the country cider, waiting.

Who comes to my doorway on this black night,
to popcorn and chocolate in the darkened hall,
under the wind and the runaway moon, softly,
over the leaves and the dying grass, in flying
mantle and cold white face, without a name,
without a voice, sometimes …

I’ve been a ghost and merrier things,
in wind and rain and scatabout moon,
even a snowman, once on a hill, in
instant costume as the flakes came down.

~ Joan Vayo 28 October 1971

Those final two lines of Mom’s poem, as she sneaks into winter?

Here she is, our Abominable Snow Mom:

Happy Halloween to one and all!

“All Hallows Eve” ©1971 Joan C. Vayo. All rights reserved.

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