Pumpkin Pickins

Posted on 2025-09-29 by Bartholomew Barker

I

Through the weeds
the pumpkins pop
like a stoplight
cautioning us
because Grandma
hasn’t given
the green light
to go into the garden

II

Musty leaves dry
at the bottom
of the pile
where their fellows rise
like the harvest moon
into the smoke dancing
with the swirling wind
like glowing spider webs

III

Under the keen stars
of Pegasus’ Great Square
before the first frost
which might come tonight
I point your finger
at a smudge of light
millions of years away
that caresses your face

Another collaboration with my pals at Charles House after we read some autumn poetry including, When the Frost is on the Punkin, Merry Autumn and, of course, The Road Not Taken. Still not sure if these are three poems or just one…

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About Bartholomew Barker

Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
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9 Responses to Pumpkin Pickins

  1. Ezekiel Fish's avatar Ezekiel Fish says:
    2025-09-29 at 20:15

    I enjoyed the third poem, or the last stanza the most. But they’re all so gentle in their delivery.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
  2. Rene Heartsong's avatar Rene Heartsong says:
    2025-09-29 at 23:14

    This is all some kind of Wonderful!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
  4. Dawn Pisturino's avatar Dawn Pisturino says:
    2025-10-03 at 10:01

    You brought back fond childhood memories!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

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