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Late November

LATE NOVEMBER


                                    Now a season
                for desolate ambers to quilt worn pastures
                            as harsh north wind songs
                          scold lonely Sycamore boughs,

                                       Whose
                ghostly silhouettes beckon endless horizons
                                arching gaunt fingers
                    to one lonely but swaying colding sky,

                                       Heavy
                                grey-misted clouds
                        threaten a promise of yet to be,

                                           I
                                see withered grasses
                     embrace worn tangled corn skeletons
                                   to toss to dance
                                    silent whispers
                              upon an earth, carpeted
                                         so void,
                                        so barren,
                                            All
                           awaiting shrouds of hoarfrost
                                           soon
                              sprinkled to their bosom,

                                   This dismal stage
                          defied by stark whiting birches
                                 astep soft firs, there
                                        and there,

                                       But beyond
                              nothing, but nothing stirs
                      save some eternal vow of golden days
                                      that will yet
                                           -NO !
                                     must… to be,

                                         But now
                         of my dearest of mine children
                                         repose 
                                 'tis your time only,
                                          Only,
                            that thee must slumber.

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