POM: NOVEMBER
Ah, tis November. As much as I like that this month gets me a wee bit closer to the end of the year, which gets me that much closer to the end of first semester, which ushers in second semester, which provides a not-as-distant glimpse of June and summer release, I do like October and I am reluctant to let it totally fade away.
I like its blend of summery days of warmth and crisp evening. I appreciate the last hurrah of garden color mixed with swirling leaves. And I favor the bounteous moons that hover like bloated Chinese lanterns on the night’s horizon.
So, here is an October poem for November. How could I resist “spicy woods”? Yet, Amy Lowell does set the tone well for the Thanksgiving month with her “Hoar-Frost” offering:
In the cloud-grey mornings
I heard the herons flying;
And when I came into my garden,
My silken outer-garment
Trailed over withered leaves.
A dried leaf crumbles at a touch,
But I have seen many Autumns
With herons blowing like smoke
Across the sky.
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Such lovely poems! Both of them, very visual. I laughed at your first part, wishing the year away!
Shameless truth…
Lovely poem to usher in November. We’re having such a wonderful extended fall that it still feels like October in my neck of the woods. But I suspect that will soon change, and before we know it, the winter coats will be out. Sigh.
gorgeous.
i’m very ready for autumn to appear. still wearing shorts in my neighborhood – just not right!
Shorts!!