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.