My Pumpkin

I have this great pumpkin a friend talked me into buying the other day. It looks big and round and orange and for some reason, I absolutely do NOT want to cut a face into it or make its nice strong green grey stem into a cute little hat. It's slightly smaller than a beachball. It's heavy. This pumpkin has a great more dignity and gravitas than some goofy pumpkin with a toothy grin and a stupid hat. This is one serious pumpkin.

It's outside my front door, standing proudly in the face of torrents of rain, shiny and whole, uncut, uncensored, roundly celebrating the season's harvest on my bricky red stoop, together with fallen leaves of ochre, red, tan and brown, like royal attendants at a courtly ceremony bowing before it.