Enter Home Planet News Poetry of Issue #6                         Page 34
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What does it mean
That on the way to East Hampton
I saw pumpkins growing in a field,
One right next to another, blazing like orange suns,
And fat enough to pop?
And what does it mean
That that night, in Montauk,
The moon rose over the sea
So huge and weirdly orange
The night looked bewitched?
Probably nothing,
But even now as I think of these sights
I swell with the happiness of harvests
And symmetry.

  Jacqueline Coleman-Fried