NaNo update!
I’m at my usual pace around this time of year. In need-to-get-the-lead-out mode. Trying to pass 10k within the next 24 hours or so.
I’m amused at all of the writers in my G+ NaNoWriMo circle who are stressed out about being a couple thousand words behind. Try being about 10-13k behind! It’s really not the end of the world. Having done this event a few times I have the perspective of it being okay if I get to 50k and it being okay if I don’t, though I plan to finish this challenge. I can probably edit a decent story out of this year’s effort.
Because I want to post this poem before the end of the month, I’ll not hinge it on being current on the linear word count guidelines. Instead I’ll set a goal to make my minimum count needed to not fall behind any further today (about 700 more words for the night) and post the rest of Picking Pumpkins including the first stanza again. Enjoy!
Picking Pumpkins
For rows and rows they stretch
Round in shape, some tall and lean
All shades of orange hues
Anticipating Halloween
Wedged between husks of corn
Listing from side to side
A chilly breeze whips ’round
A truck bed fit for a hay ride
The lanes go around a small cluster
Of dried-up scarecrows
With straw hands and shiny buttons
Guarding the patch and its rows
With benevolent eyes and crafty smiles
They make a fine bunch of bumpkins
Pointing to and lighting the way
To the surrounding pumpkins
Visitors kick hay as they walk
Marking the aisles with their forays
A sign at the entrance reads “Which way?”
Mere steps from a giant corn maze
In a lot corner two people are deciding
Between the big one or the small
“Which to choose? Which to choose?
We cannot take them all.”
They determine the medium-sized ones
Don’t deserve much of their attention
They pass them by with no second thought
Growing hungrier for selection
The first person watches the second
The second one paces around
The best one for their journey home
Is one just right and just round.
The second one passes by
The right one and then it’s time
To hold it up to the light
And free the orange skin of its grime
It is a bigger pumpkin
With a slightly lighter hue
Of orange, enough to be reflective
She says, “Oh, this one will do!”
She pulls a device from her pocket
and opens the camera app
Aims it at the large round orb
And carefully takes a snap
She glances at the other
And shows her still-frame catch
They look at the photo feeling quite pleased
Grabbing hands, they leave the patch
What they both know is
A secret you can’t deny
For the real pumpkin is
The one you choose to let lie
Whatever you take away,
One may surmise
Could become a jack o’lantern or
A couple of spiced, warm pies.
Or it could become a forgotten gift
That may be left to rot
On the doorstep, in a front yard
The one that time forgot
Back to the earth, the squashy flesh
Will fade into rows of pine
And the crowds will come back to seize
A tree from a fake-flocked line.
Next time you find yourself in a patch
Take a photo, take a few
To capture the true essence of autumn
Any hue will do
Be sure to wander to the corners
And around all the bends
Once you decide, leave all as they lie
Now, you’re picking pumpkins.
A Mad Notepad 
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