In pumpkin we trust
at the time of walking dead
spice to treat the vice
— — —
In pumpkin we trust
at the time of walking dead
spice to treat the vice
— — —
Forests humanised
invaders of modern times
wilderness devoured
— — —

Mellow as yellow
as petals pupils flower
a newborn, daughter

The breath of a twig
of creepers, the earth crawlers
a traveller’s treats

Trivial for some
wayside, unworthy of note
the world for someone