Charlie

Years ago

When I was small

With dead pine needles

1 stick

A string

And a white bed sheet

Daddy and I built  

Charlie

With permanent marker

I gave him a face

And every October

I found him a space

To hang on our porch

So he could blow around

Free with glee

And as the years went on

I grew up

And the magic of Halloween

Faded

But still

He'd guard our home

Through autumn wind

Cold

Blustering leaves

Even snow

And when I'd arrive home

From a long day

I'd pull in the driveway

And Charlie's face

Would always turn my way

As if to greet me

Happily

It's just a bed sheet

I muttered

Just a decoration

He's not real

But each Halloween

Magic fills the air

And our Charlie

Comes to life

With The flicker of candles

Jack o Lanterns

And creatures of the night

He hangs on our porch

Watching

Waiting

Smiling

For trick or treaters

To arrive

And when it's time to put him

Back in the garage

I watch him all year

Lifeless

Soulless

Glow less

Gone

Charlie the ghost

I hope you'll always know

We love you here

With you

My childhood

And the spirit of Halloween

Will never completely

Go

 

Author's Note

Reviews

[JackValor86]

this is a poem yet its filed under story

[Tony Jordan]

"Years ago

When I was small

With dead pine needles

1 stick

A string

And a white bed sheet

Daddy and I built

Charlie..." - probably the best leading stanza I've read in a long time Kat. I wish I'd written this moving account of life and love.
:))

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

Thank you for sharing this tender, innocent vignette of your childhood with your dad. These kinds of memories are so precious, sacred almost. Beautifully written and the picture is priceless! Happy Halloween to you and Charlie!

[John Alexander McFadyen]

A sweet piece that exposes the human psyche in its deep rooted need for superstitions to ward off the evil we have been taught to fear. But those emotions that feeling when 'Charlie' is alive and sadness when he is a mere sheet in the garage may also be a delve back into the safety of childhood.

[aj milton]

A lovely topical poetic story. Memories are precious. Charlie is an icon to keep them alive.