It’s Boris at the Door

It’s Boris at the Door

The front porch light is on,
glaring yellow in the fog,
and there’s a boy at my door.
He flips the cover up on
the mail slot, tilts his head
for a better view inside and
straight down the hallway.

Hello? Hello, in there, he says,
I’m here for candy.

Now with all the American
programmes on television
you’d think British kids’d
know to say Trick-Or-Treat.
But no, so

I open the door, holding a 2-kilo
tin of celo-wrapped chocolates.

The boy says,
Good evening, ma’am.
Happy Halloween to you.

Lovely boy. Dressed up like
Boris. I smile and say,
It’s Trick-Or-Treat.

Quite so, he says.
Reaches into his bag, hands
me a Mars bar. I, of course,
drop two big fistfuls of candy
into his bag, and then he
runs to the house next door.

 

 

written for b’Quickly’s prompt ©️ Misky 2019

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