Young Frankenstein

 

This phrase came to mind

Out of the season’s time:

When the veil fails, speaking

Of Hallowe’en

 

This is what those of ancient

Lore believed—that gossamer-

Iron webs and steel-misty

 

Vapors held the other side

On a spellbound, ritualed

Line

 

Except for

 

This one time each year

 

I don’t know what this means;

The child in me didn’t

Care

 

I dressed colorfully, unusually

 

Looked through eyeholes

Of masks sweated ’round

The fabric on my face

 

I was young and relatively

Free

 

To run my neighborhood

 

Receiving chocolate reward

For feeling the thrill of cool

Air as more night rushed

Over my skin,

 

Through folds in costumes,

 

The faster that I moved