November Wind

November wind does not sing,
it screams and wings to other
lands. The span of seasons
pushed by currents fervent,
branches cling to trees,
let go of leaves that fall
to pleas of wind and weather,
sigh and curl around themselves
then acquiesce to little death,
the red and gold of tearing
loose from summer’s mooring.

November wind seeps in and
mutters now of snow and bite,
of gray and white, and I am loosed
like leaves and scattered,
grounded. I will sigh and curl
before the fire banked to
bring warmth higher through
the longest night, til winter burns
through darkness gold in bones,
atones for sins untold and seasons turn
and I and leaves rise up and yearn.

3 thoughts on “November Wind

  1. Jae Rose

    Hi Dee – I realised I haven’t checked into your site for a while..sorry about that..November winds are ‘screaming’ over here too..yet more lovely imagery (especially standing up and flying up there with the leaves..)Jae 🙂

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