My husband’s mom was into holidays,
so styrofoam and spray paint were her scene.
She made a deal of Christmas, but her ways
were most remarkable at Halloween.
She formulated rules. She filigreed,
festooned and to our arguments was deaf.
If we knew what was good for us, we’d heed
her words and not collect for UNICEF.

She’s gone, but somehow passed the torch of rules
around me to my daughter, who declares
that costumes based on heroes are for fools,
and Halloween requires monster wares.
But we all know the trick is neither hag
nor ghoul:
Tonight’s our chance to dress in drag.