those old enough remember
when that night ran wild

and its roar was screams
of scores of costumed kids

shrieking "trick or treat!"
their feet were paws

of a creature who roamed
dark hills until the last

sliver of moonlight
slipped behind thickening

shades of roiling soot.
rumors of razor blades

in apple cores were nonexistent
like needles in candy bars,

but everybody thought
they were true .

now that night is behind
bars of outrage.

children still parade in plumage
but now their roar

is little more than a growl
less audible than a howl

as they amble in bright day
like declawed animals gone astray

doors still open to their cries
but they have no

ferocious appetites to sate.
the hunger for the thrill

is about as strong
as a ball of yarn

for they have nothing else
to do behind these bars

now that they no longer
roam beneath the stars.