(I am plagued by patterns,
every day, every way they appear.)

The other day, after a Halloween party,
we came home, tired and delighted. We,
as a family, had won five placements,
because, we took care with our patterns.

The Baca Halloween party, in this
mining community, is quite an event,
planned and programmed with costume
and pumpkin carving contests,
in four different age groups.

I am thankful to the Baca’s; they let
my imaginative, fun-loving person
loose, out of her mental cage, if only for a day.

Three years ago, I dropped my kids off
there, at the Morenci Club. Last year,
I went with my girls, as the Spider Woman.
Ha! Yeah, it was that bad! But, good…

I went from table to table, asking children
to touch my pet spiders. A large long-legged
one hooked over my shoulder, a fuzzy one
attached to a leash, or, my personal favorite,
‘Squish’, a plump titan of a black widow spider,
who squishes deliciously under cringing fingers.

Smaller spiders clung to my black, fishnet stockings,
spiders hung from my spider-patterned witch’s hat,
tiny plastic-mold spiders were glued to my face and
arms. I knew I looked idiotic, but it didn’t matter,
I was cutting myself loose from myself. I wore an old
orange dress with a black apron sporting a pumpkin
pocket to house the spider rings I gave out to
children who would touch my spiders, or not.

I became totally absorbed in watching each child’s
reaction, delighted in every human characteristic
I saw, understood more interactive diversity,
was consumed by my self-appointed task.

I forget faces, but not the feel of their natures,
every moving aspect becomes stored in my mind.
Each child gifted me with their reactions, their
personalities, their innate beings.

I felt fully satiated, after last year’s party. And,
thought up a new tactic for this year. I went
as an older Red Riding Hood, with devil’s horns,
and a tail, it was my daughter’s costume last year,
and, I had found some red fishnet stockings in Tucson.

Devil Red Riding Hood had a trick up her sleeve,
garnered from Halloweens of her youth. Eyeballs.
Peeled grapes, big, round Globe grapes, peeled
the day before. Placed in a bowl in one side
of her scarf-covered goodie basket, the other side
held spooky treats. Children had to touch the
‘eyeballs’ to pick a treat. Again, I was hypnotized
by the children’s faces, completely in empathic
Poet’s mode. Again, it was wonderful.

My husband was able to attend, this year. He went,
youngest child decided, as a woman, in a black dress,
with orange and black stockings which were a bit
too small, leading to constant pulling up of said
stockings. Also, a bra stuffed with socks, snappy
orange and black false eyelashes and an auburn wig.
My oldest daughter was Juliet, my youngest, a dress
shredded, vampire-bitten, bloody go-go girl.

We arrived a little late, just as the costume contest
was starting, with the youngest children’s group first,
making quite a spectacle, which was the intent.
My oldest daughter won for most original costume,
My husband and I, as a couple, won first place. Both
my daughters won with their pumpkins, in the
pumpkin carving contest. So did my husband.

As we honored the patterns of Halloween.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 10/30/05