The old red Ford truck waits;We fill our buckets and tubs withHard yellow Kieffer pearsFrom a spreading gnarled tree,Planted years ago by some homesteader.We owe him or herWho dug the holeSpread the sapling's roots In the waiting soil, Who watered,Who pruned so we could harvestSweet fruit.

Sheep grazing sedately in a grassy pastureShow no signs of distressAt having been robbed of their wool.Their missing fleeces dyed and driedWait for buyers in the fading sunlightAlong a cozy shelf near a window.Do they peep out and dream,Or sleeplessly count their sheep?

Autumn sunshine lights Pumpkins waiting in wobbly rows To be chosen by eager children For Jack-o-lantern carving, For ghostly October nights.Parents wait for pumpkin pies, And sweet nut-filled breads For times with family and friendsAround Thanksgiving dinner tables.