Just As Always

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Each pumpkin is a flame
as the year draws old
each day the sun squints further to a slant
didn’t you love these funny beautiful ugly squashes
in fields
drying on fences
propped up in booths for sale?

We could be amusing ourselves
walking their dirt areas and paths
choosing laughing smiling
now I
in my hideousness of still being here
needing to talk to the hard still air
of your glowing orange self.

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