Hallowed Son

Painting by Rick Mobbs

Hallowed Son

“Have you heard?”
asked spirit pony
of blackbird—
“Our Broadus turns nine
this very Hallowmas!”

“But is he brave enough
to venture out into the night,
to let his neighborhood
celebrate with him?”
blackbird cawed.

“Most certainly he is,”
replied Ceric,
his red flanks quivering,
“He was born a boy
without fear,
comfortable in the darkness,
with Owl’s eyes,
the quickness and grace
of Tom Catt,
and the brave heart
of Wolf Cubb.”

“Yes, oh yes,
I remember seeing him
last All Saint’s Eve,
traveling far and wide
with his father—
blackbird sighed,
“Dressed as Casper,
tripping on his sheet,
clutching tightly to Woodrow,
his orange and blue stuffed jester.
His father wore that long-tailed overcoat,
a fright wig,
and a Commedia mask,
making him look like Michael Myers.”

“This year,” Ceric whispered,
“The haversack will carry more
than twin jack-o-lanterns.”


“What else?” inquired Raven,
fluffing up his black feathers.

“This year
his little sister, Ada,
born on July 4th last,
dressed as a cherub
will ride high
on her father’s shoulder,
enjoying her first
Halloween—
celebrating with her proud brother.”
Ceric exclaimed, already excited.

“Holiday children are twice-loved
and thrice-blessed,
with swarms of angels
hovering around them!”
chirped Raven.

“So true, so true:
and what lucky children
they are.”

Glenn Buttkus October 2008