Song of November 28th
in all the stillness
of mid-morning
a well-played song
brown leaves still
hang on branches of trees
and I figure
all that is going to fall
has fallen
but the tree still
hangs onto life
I sit at my laptop
a blank page
faces me
on the screen
and as it flickers
all it asks from me
is a poem
that’s all
a poem
but it must be
true to itself
and as I run
through my mind
I see a litany of faces
of the all the loves
I've known
and in a moment of silence
I must admit
that I still love them all
but the room is still
heat rises from a vent
to ease the chill
I feel in my bones
I know winter is near
I look out the window
and see a sparrow
hop across the lawn
and something inside says
I’ve seen it before
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
