A poem dedicated to Vassar’s pumpkin patch

Juliette Pope/The Miscellany News.

Where did they come from?

All out on the lawn

All without stems

And suddenly gone

Like oversized acorns

All scattered around

As if two produce trucks

Suddenly just broke down

Cradled like babies

In sweater clothed arms

For a moment I thought

I might be at the farm

Cell phones held up

To get shots with the squash

To us did the pumpkins,

I wondered, brainwash?

Not to use in a soup

Not to plant all its seeds

Not to use as a doorstop

Or feed to the geese

I lugged my pumpkin up Jewett

And mourned my obliques

All for it rot on my counter

‘Till I leave in three weeks

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