The crackling, crunchy leaves, resound in the pumpkin patch,
Trailing the footprints of children searching to complete
the one that quietly nestled in their small hands to carry
suddenly the snap releases the orange ball
As the heavy load is held close to the heart
sculptured, painted, and created,
like some artist like Michelangelo,
Shining on the doorsteps
Taking me to the pumpkin patch,
always a warm memory,again.
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