Something about pumpkins
how they crawl across available space
far from home if allowed
tentatively one might say
their tendrils tickling teasing twirling
round an innocent stem
a downspout fitting
a length of wire on a fence line
all before the coming of the leaves
big as houses if you're a mouse
huge canopies of elegance
opening their hands to sunlight
directing rain or generally claiming
all of your backyard but that's not all
for one by one the namesake plumps
and grows swells and bells
drops of green gravity
in a network of slow spilled chaos
think of the precious years
when trust entered the bloodstream
our grandmothers and grandfathers
sensing enough to know
this patch of life must
be allowed to flourish
no wanton plunder welcome here
only careful cultivation husbandry
until the table calls out for the knife
and each world surrenders
split asunder
the precious golden orange flesh
hurried along to steamer or oven
till soft enough to bless with butter
and a crisp dry Sauvignon blanc
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