The Seed
How like the pumpkin you seem to me;
arriving full-blown from the seed planted
in my womb.
You grew wild and free
among the tamer fruits of life.
I can still hear an echo of your laughter.
Vines and tendrils wound about you
in infancy long past.
We were pulled apart by my growth and yours.
I long for the blossoming days
of infancy and childhood,
for the wee small one
who never failed to make me smile,
for the adult who sprang Jack-o-lantern whole
into a world of normalcy
refusing to accept the mundane.
Can you not see me? Did you not know me?
Was I never the gardener to you?
The garden now lies,
overrun by last years Halloween's delights,
allowed to run their course,
and in doing so trampling the ripe tomatoes,
and green bell peppers
as you do, my heart, by forgetting.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2009
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