samhainlover

An Earth-born Sun,
Full and round and bright,
          I.
     Golden child,
          Healthy and strong

Until . . .

With a shock of you,
I am cut from the vine.

Gone, my fellows.
Gone, my home.
Your cold hands my only comfort
           ( and none too good at that).

You cradle me, lest I break,
and I begin to feel the safety of
          You,
Your strength.

And then . . .

Scoop by scoop,
Scraping the rind of
Sticky, slithery strings and seeds,
You hollow me.

Now, I smile for you alone
And look forward to being
          smashed.