My grandmother wore a white sheet on Halloween.

Her black oxford stout-heeled shoes poked out from under the hem.

She walked with her familiar rock from side to side.

Her pale blue eyes glinted through the eye holes.

.

She was not carrying sweet candy;

She carried a loaf of rye bread.

The aroma of weak milky tea surrounded her.

.

When I ran to her to clasp her in my arms,

She was gone.

So I went home,

Waited,

And every child, “Trick or Treat!”, got a slice of rye toast

And a hot cup full of tea.

.