I Never Much Cared for Halloween
This is life in 2020
I never much cared for Halloween.
Raised in the country.
Trick-or-Treating wasn’t a thing.
Once dressed as a hobo and collected for UNICEF.
(Does UNICEF still exist?
Or, was it one more piece of good slaughtered by Trump?)
Busload of kids from a church I didn’t attend,
Knocking on doors for money, sometimes getting candy.
Visited an elderly couple. Hot chocolate, cookies, and quarters.
The man blew out his brains an hour later.
A true Halloween nightmare.
I never much cared for Halloween —
Until . . . grandchildren —
kids whose dad wouldn’t let them trick-or-treat
or eat candy or cake or have fun.
I rescued the Halloween I never liked.
Costumes, ghosts in trees, pumpkins, and skeletons,
candy for giving, not getting, but enough
for little ones who just wanted to be part
of the Halloween I never much cared for.
The Halloween their father outlawed — unsuccessfully.
