The End of November
I remember the end of one November
When my urge
To see the forest trees
Was upsurged.
The leaves and the trees
Were still lively and red
But still and half way dead.
Discovering fallen trees
Ancient mounds
And new paths with distant sounds.
It was hard to carry on home
Where my other soul
Laid on my chest
Like the still winter trees
Deemed to rest.
I remember the end of that November
When a grim smile ripped his string.
A moment, a wish to encumber
I remember the end of November
When he went over yonder
Swimming in our streams
Lying in the summer’s heat
Tugging on the leash
Gobbling on nature’s sweets
Galloping to wherever he may be free.
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