A Halloween Sonnet

A Mother’s Lament

I sewed and sewed and still I could not get
The tail to stay upon the tiger’s butt.
What started out as simple pattern set
Lay on my floor in pieces I had cut

So in my dusty attic I did climb
And found the thing that I was looking for
A cedar chest, lay buried in the grime
Of past forgotten childhood costume lore.

The scent of moth dust made me want to sneeze
As I unlocked the hasp and raised the lid
The rusty hinges groaned in their unease
Exposing hidden treasures of a kid

The werewolf costume may be full of holes,
But he’ll be proud to wear it, I suppose.

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