Monday, November 12, 2012

November Wind (edited re-post)

Tonight with sullen scowl it strips
The ragged, rusty leaf
From limbs; and curl its sullen lips
Across our summer grief
Tonight the ragged moon is dull
And teardrops lash the dark
Where every hedge and ditch is full
Of autumn’s waning spark

Tonight it preys outside the door
And creeps beneath the sash
Tonight, across an empty shore
Its yearning billows crash
In sulks of sobbing mutiny
Across earth’s barren form
A sorrowful soliloquy
A brusque and brazen storm

Tonight the landscape is a floor
The wind a ruthless broom
Crashing through burnished corridor
And nature’s living room
It sweeps in vile abandonment
The orchards; tattered vines
In gusts of violent discontent
It rages and resigns

Tonight we tuck the little child
Between warm quilts of down
And though the restless dark is wild
And every leaf far-blown
It cannot chill the firelight
Where precious memories glow
We hold their pleasure close tonight
And let November blow

Janet Martin

 Two weeks ago the wind raged mightily; it is attempting a re-play today.

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