Alas Old Orange Head I knew him well.
Until like Humpty Dumpty he too fell.

He would perch on counters, tables, or a sill.
Never once was he wished any ill will.

Even Molly would share his small window space.
Sitting side by side the camera to face.

But sadness settled before this Halloween.
When checking his box only pieces were seen.

He’d been with us always—at least nine or ten years.
But a rattle in the box awaken my fears.

See ceramics or glass don’t take well to a fall.
Dropping and slamming are like hitting a wall.

The picture shows them alive but one is now dead.
I’m glad it wasn’t Molly but the pumpkin instead!