Who Stole The Pumpkin?

In this sharing economy,

cars, extra home rooms for hotels,

the 14 inch

pumpkin

fresh on my porch

was to be “shared”

by enjoying

its beauty

sitting on the porch

next to pots of

blooming mums.

Still dark,

reading the paper,

a sense of someone on the porch

perhaps

delivering something,

took me to the window.

A bike rider

light blue helmet

flashed out of view

with the pumpkin

sitting on the back of the

bike.

How it might

make the ride to its

new destination

without slipping

and crashing

its ripe

elegance

is a mystery.

Sharing

is not stealing.

A boundary

was crossed

this early morning.