Sunday, October 21, 2007

A Poem by me

The Pumpkin Patch

crisp crunch leaves break and soak
into the grass under
small feet plodding among the golden pumpkins
that will fill the empty pages
of spiral bound wide ruled paper
covered in wax scrawls

chilled air laps bare hands and neck
a red scarf grasped by dirty fingers
gathers bits of hay and leaves
trailing, winding through vines
soft dirt passing golden mounds
searching for what will become a
flickering toothy grin


Chelsea said...

So G.

Lil Renny said...

this poem reminds me of when we played in the leaves at Kiwanis and came back to my apt and did leaf rubbings. Those were some dang sweet fall times. Good poem, I like it!

Kristin said...

those were really good times.

Chelsea said...

Can you believe Miriam's been out a year? Oh lil Mim.