Crimson chronicles pumpkins
yellow flecked in green fields
Seeds swell, skin hardens,
The microcephalic sunflower
no longer lifts its seedy face,
droops now above rattling beans.
Yellow jackets, drunk among
windfall apples, droning in a stew
or bruises, confuse me:
the barely audible babble of beating wings,
the murmer of melancholy voices,
the moment remembered
as it occurs.