On a recent, spontaneous trip to Boston, I spied this jack-o’-lantern on a city street. I’m used to seeing pumpkins and jack-o’-lanterns in more rural settings, and something about this one, isolated on concrete, really stuck with me. I’ve been thinking about him ever since.

Jack-o’-lantern’s Lament

Once a plump and healthy pumpkin,
I was sundered from my vine,
cruelly disemboweled and mangled,
carved to some perverse design.

How I long for golden fields now,
yearn for trees and endless sky,
as I molder on this concrete
and amuse you passers-by.

I’ve become a foul-mouthed fruit now
overripe with mold and spores.
Do you wonder that I glower
while you rush about your chores?

©Molly Hogan, draft

This week’s Poetry Friday Round-up is hosted by Patricia J. Franz.