cold
hard
red
perfectly rounded
the apple sits
inviting
torturing
you can't resist
bite
crunch
the pulp turns to cream in your mouth
reminding you
of autumns long past
looking around in childlike awe
pumpkins
mini multi-colored dried corn ears
tied in bundles
wondering if
Peter's wife
was living in one of the pumpkins there
if she'd invite you over
for pumpkin pie
and autumn apples
and let you live with her forever
inside a pumpkin
eating
cold
hard
red
perfectly rounded
apples.