"There", he whispered. " 
there's the only house in town 
worth visiting on Halloween! There!"

"Yeah!" said everyone.

For it was true. The house was special
and fine and tall and dark. 
There must have been a thousand windows
in its sides, all shimmering with cold stars.
It looked as if it had been cut out of
black marble instead of built
out of timbers, and inside?
Who could guess how many rooms,
halls, breezeways, attics.
Superior and inferior attics,
some higher than others,
some more filled with dust and webs
and ancient leaves or gold
buried above ground in the sky
but lost away so high
no ladder in town could take you there.

The house beckoned with its towers,
invited with its gummed-shut doors.
Pirate ships are a tonic.
ancient forts are a boon.
But a house, a haunted house,
on all Hallow's Eve?
Eight small hearts beat up an
absolute storm of glory and approbation.

"Come on."