My Pumpkin

It is finally that time of the year.  Actually, it is my favorite time of the year.  Autumn is arriving in all its glory, with the trees dressed in their finest leaves.  Clusters upon clusters of golden, amber, and scarlet hues.   This seasonal beauty is breathtaking and a sight to behold.  I remember jumping and frolicking in a pile of golden brown and burnt red leaves when I was younger – much younger, I must add.

It seems just like yesterday.  Hmmm, perhaps it was – I don’t remember.  The air could be thinning in the attic – know what I mean?  I’m kidding, of course, because the attic is still full of unique and modern ideas blended with memories from the past, like vintage clothing.

While I am on the subject of the attic, meaning that space in my head underneath a fluff of blond hair, I feel the urge to take a look at what’s in there.

It’s pretty dark and kind of eerie ruffling through the relics of the past.  Quite amusing, I must say.  I just stumbled across a box filled with Halloween decorations – yes, I decorate for Halloween!  There it was!  My pumpkin!  I say it because I don’t know if it has a gender.

When I was a child, I use to have imaginary friends – perhaps, because I was an only child.  The pumpkin was my best imaginary friend, and not only on Halloween.   We used to do everything together.  We would play together, ride our bikes together, climb trees together, eat at the table together – I mean everything.  God forbid that someone would sit on my pumpkin!  Don’t they know it’s right here beside me?!

Such fond memories, and now that it is autumn and Halloween is approaching, I think I will renew my relationship with the pumpkin.  It is has been eons since we have chatted.  We can take a nice long walk together and enjoy the glorious colors of autumn.  Ssshh – no mentioning Pumpkin Spiced Lattes – okay?

Childish, you say?  Maybe, and who cares!   Reflecting back on my whimsical and youthful days is a joy.  There were mostly good memories, actually some very fond memories.   Wow, all of this thought processing has motivated me to clean up the attic!  The not-so-good memories will be boxed and shoved to the back, where no one can find them – not even me.

The good memories will be dusted off and carefully wrapped and placed where they can easily be found.   Now, when I wish to dwell on the past, my pumpkin and I can secretly sift through those cherished memories together.

By the way, my pumpkin will never be stuffed back in a box again.  My pumpkin will be carefully placed on a ledge or on the fireplace mantel.  I’ll disguise my pumpkin and it will appear to be just a part of the decor and no one will know about our secrets.

Good night, my pumpkin, and sleep tight.


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Published by Eugi

"Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words." - Robert Frost

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