My Harvest Queen shuffles next to me
Pulled through the fall sunshine by my insistence
Annoyed with this forced march through harsh conditions
63 degrees, light breeze
My Harvest Queen with furrowed brow
Reluctant beauty amongst the green golds and reds of the foliage
Oblivious to the multi-colored graffiti that squawks harshly
From its defacement at the foot of the bridge
My Harvest Queen scowls at the swirl of leaves
They have failed to hold on
While she clings tenaciously to her existence
A deadly grip on life
My Harvest Queen dwarfed by looming steel and concrete
But I know that which is stronger
Her heat heart hunger
To remain
My Harvest Queen
