This came to me while I was backing some seeds from an Acorn Squash which is, in fact, a type of pumpkin.
You chose me from a lonely field
–Though others had much more to yield.
What hands have taken
What hands will give
–a new life somewhere, I hope to live.
Like the rising fog, I wait
Trust placed high in the hands of fate.
Knife cuts in, now open wide
Too little too late, no time to hide.
Hands enter in, an awkward squish
All I had, placed on a forlorn dish.
Surrender cut into a smile,
Though outward light may shine a while.
Hallow never felt serene;
Emptiness hides on Halloween.
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