Poetry

The Last Mile

Tricks or treats mister?
Cries the tiny trickster
My two-year-old toddler
Is out on Halloween night
He is wearing his wizard robes
His wand held out to fight.
                                                          
Neighbour’s door opens
The last house on the stile
From my door to theirs
The distance of one short mile.
                                        
As her calling bell trills
The old lady puts out a bowl
Filled with candies and sugar treats
Upon the patio floor.
                                        
My tiny trickster
dimples through his disguise
His face all smiles now
Regarding the loot that lies.
                                        
Now upon two tiny greedy palms
Stiff and sticky with such sweet alms
In he pops a  square stick jaw
Then tries a soft Hershey’s kiss
And then to our immense horror
His lips utterly freeze.
                                        
Drawn into a frozen rictus
A caricature of a smile
In a hideous horrible smiley,
Rosebud lips forever seal.
                                        
I won’t ever forget my son’s last
Words
Or his soft dimpled smile
Alas! his soft dimpled smile!
That stuck onto his tiny mouth,
Helpless all the while!
                                        
I will forever remember our short shift
Before the accursed midnight treat,
Unholy Halloween’s murderous gift,
That ended our sweet short walk together,
In a  journey of just one mile.
                                        
~ Amrita Valan 
Bangalore, India

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