Pumpkin patch poetry

Muddy pools lead us
through the corn maze to giant
pumpkins, wheelbarrows
and slingshot contests that
we actually win this year.

So we bring home our prize,
golden and round, barely
squeezing
in the back of our van with
its smaller cousins.

There are plans for
the carving, and plans
for the painting,
but I just
want the seeds,
toasted crisp and
salted sweet.