Halloween: An Occasional Poem

[Brainstormy]

Halloween is another holiday for children.
And when I had them—the children I mean,
And when they were young and exuberant
I had no love for it.
(Halloween, I mean, not the children or their exuberance.)
They were so obsessive, my kids!
Worrying about costumes as early as September,
Changing their minds and never caring about simplicity.
(In costumes, I mean. My children were simple enough.)
But I had told them they could be anything!
And I found I didn’t mean it.
Not, at least, at Halloween.
Because some costumes are harder than others.
Starfishes, say. Or monster trucks.
Things that require moving parts.
Or electricity.
I know I disappointed them.
(The children, not the starfishes or trucks)
Encouraging them to sublimate their dreams
In the interest of something cheap and easy,
Boxed. And available at Walmart.
But I didn’t like them so much back then.
Making the costumes, not the children.
But now that I’m old and all of that is over,
Well, not exactly over, because they call me on holidays,
(Not the costumes, but the children),
I find that I’m in just in love with it!
(The holiday, not the children, who I’ve always loved dearly)
Because Halloween now is something very different.
It’s an excuse to bring chocolate home from the grocery.
The day that your husband lets you dress the dogs in clothes,
The day that being old and scary yourself
Is really pretty cool.
I find that I have a lot more love for all of it now.
The dogs, of course.
And the holiday,
And the children.