Another blip aka November slips through our fingers...
fading into a wild flurry of white tonight...
To purple shadows planted on dusk’s barren, burnished path
To sudden snow globe afternoons rekindling Christmas thrill
To fall and winter’s duels in the muted aftermath
Of leaf song winnowed from woodlands now dark and stark and still
To gleaming furrows turned and tucked like umber counterpanes
To harvest-hymn hiatus and to skies that steal the show
To echo-tangos tugging at heartstrings taut/fraught with refrains
Of love, laughter and longing’s ever learning to let go
To winds that wander through a world of golden tapers snuffed
To squash and pumpkin lanterns gleaned and baked and steamed and fried
To brooding tableaus transformed by a big white duvet, fluffed
Until it spills soft feathers over town and countryside
To joy, because of juncos, to the blue jays’ raucous cries
To winter’s feathered friends returned like long lost family
To reveling in the raw agony of time’s demise
To making the most of what all too soon is history
To dear November’s dying embers on a dimming grate
To nature’s somber sweetness after autumn’s robe is rent
I pen this poem as I linger at a phantom gate
To bid a fond farewell and wonder where, oh, where you went
(Ah yes, to hugs and kisses, too many to count, I know
To happiness because it was enough to be alive
To thankfulness to God from whom each season’s blessings flow
Through outstretched touch and taste and such, into Bygone’s archive)
© Janet Martin
And some precious last-day-of-November memories...
...and the world that had returned to green, gray and brown
after Old Man Winter's mid November bumble,
when he tumbled out of bed too soon,
will be a white winter wonderland come December!
Good-night and see you in December💖🙏