RDP Monday: SWATH
Down the road from where I live
is a field where they grow golden orange pumpkins.
After the seeds are planted and the field is watered, nothing happens. There is just a big brown patch of dirt sitting there doing nothing. It’s obvious though that it’s a well cared for patch of dirt.
And then like magic-but looking more like an alien invasion, the vines spread across the field. Their quiet runners reach up towards the fence next to the railroad tracks but they never quite make it that far because of the trench that is full of gray, muddy water.
I guess that’s for the best, ‘ditch pumpkins’ doesn’t ssound very festive.
As one month moves into the next the pumpkins get bigger and before you know it, there are pumpkins of all shape and sizes and shades of orange as far as the eye can see, just waiting to be harvested.
This year though, the fields that should be full of golden pumpkins was plowed under and if you didn’t know better you would think that they were growing Canadian Geese instead of pumpkins, because the empty field is full of grey geese sunning themselves, walking around and watching the trains and cars roar by.
There are no pumpkins, growing in the field down the street from where I live,
There’s just an empty swath of land, where Halloween Dreams used to grow.
On Halloween, witches come true; wild ghosts escape from dreams. Each monster dances in the park.