pumpkin poem

there were three in the meadow by the brook
why then, must we see?
when i looked into your eyes
i saw god. do you doubt it?
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
give me hunger
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
risen from the dead
rocked in the cradle of the deep
when i returned at sunset
see, they return
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
once this soft turf
let us plant