Pumpkin
The pumpkin lies, shattered
on the hillside, jagged pieces
gathered around the bottom
of the sole tree jutting out,
bright orange against the
brown and yellow of drying
weeds and dirt, the white of
the rind fading, so quickly
souring after being thrown
from the balcony above—
abandoned here, two weeks
before it would have been lit,
for a different kind of display.
