Slow Course of Sun and Rain
I watch the pumpkin grow,
a slow course of sun and rain.
Forming a strangely pointed bottom.
A gift of unknowns,
until the vine goes brown.
Brittle time snapped from its own weight.
I wonder if I have changed?
Unexpected spontaneity was swallowed in the weeds,
it stopped growing and the light is setting earlier.
It’s strange to publish again after a long silence, little reading time, and almost no community interaction. I have a few other poems in the queue, and writing I’m desperate to start. I’ve been working seven days a week, I just purchased a used van that either needs a battery or an alternator, and as such things happen, I’m stranded today. I need to get the battery charged, then start it. If it continues to run I will test it with a volt meter to see if the alternator is indeed working. All that and I took my old truck to get a new engine, which was the cause of the van purchase.
I must sound a bit overwhelmed. I’d honestly rather be working, but I also need to do a bit of writing and drawing. So, here I am.