Always listen to your mother...!

The chill breeze moans
Through the moonless night,
Giving voice to the dead
And dying leaves
Still clinging to branches
That click and clack
Above our heads.
Somewhere an owl whoos
And from a distance
We can hear the yipping howl
Of a coyote
On the prowl
For unsuspecting prey.
We go,
House to house,
Garbed in our homemade costumes
And carrying our plastic pumpkins,
Giggling with glee
And pulling scary pranks on each other,
Even as we pluck out candy
To munch on
In direct defiance
Of our mother's warning
Not to eat it all
Before we return home.
We reach the town square
And pause,
Again hearing our mother
Telling us not to go beyond it.
Dare we?
Then we see him,
The ancient specter
With his evil grin
Revealing sharp, yellowed teeth,
And his eerie orange-lit lamp
Clenched in a claw-like hand,
Motioning us on,
Encouraging us to join him
On the other side.
For an instant we stare,
Momentarily stupefied,
Feeling him pull us,
Trying to force us over
To somewhere far beyond
The town square,
Before we scream
And, turning on our heals,
Rush back to the safety
Of our mother's arms...