huge as saucers, last week,
small and shrivelled-up, today.
On long lime-green tendrils,
some plump pale seedpods hang
like airy mermaids' pouches.
Others, dried and shrivelled-up,
in shades of umber and sepia,
drop onto the dirt below. Amply camouflaged,
they turn over, caught by a passing breeze,
snuggle down into soil, soft as a down-filled duvet,
and drift off to Winter sleep.