November Field

November 05, 1992|By Spry Larrimore


Sullen, the rejects

Summer's eager swelling,

Fall's bright, ripe globes

Fading, deflating in the wan

angled sun

Not even food

For birds gone south

Or corn-feasted deer and coon

Wormfood, plowmash, tractor-squash

Unpicked, untricked, untreated

Never to be pie

Unjack o'lanterned

Nothing lonesomer than

November's pumpkins

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