Thursday, November 2, 2017

November

These blind November days,
these layers of brick and bone!
These nights of slow stars and stones
skipped across the water of the moon -

Remember June?
The full throated songs
of summer carried on a breath,
the blood sun burning overhead -

Death is next.
All that's left of the roses is the thorns.
What will keep you warm when your heart turns on itself?
What will keep you warm when its November and nothing else?

For Get Listed at Real Toads

14 comments:

Buddah Moskowitz said...

There is a quiet desperation, a weary realism that permeates this. Loved.

angieinspired said...

Ah, I love that you've turned November into the cruelest month instead of April. And it is that kind of in-between hellion. And yet, this makes the reader think, "All we have is now." snaps us back to reality. Thanks so much for bringing your bold brevity to us to wake us up on these dark cold days.

Sara McNulty said...

'What will keep you warm when your heart turns on itself?
What will keep you warm when its November and nothing else?'

Such a sense of hopelessness about this. Truly November.

Gillena Cox said...

"All that's left of the roses is the thorns" This image id deep and fierce

much love...

Toni Spencer said...

This poem gives me the feeling of despair November often does, yet I was born in this month, this month is my favorite. The world is weary in November, ready to go to sleep.

Susie Clevenger said...

November deposits its bleak on us and we wonder if there is an escape for the thorning. Great writing..one I wish I had written.

Namratha said...

November is my favourite but I can feel the despair in your voice

Sanaa Rizvi said...

'All that's left of the roses is the thorns'.. so powerful!

Helen said...

Your question is provocative .. Must ponder. What fine poetry makes one do.

Kim Russell said...

The first stanza is a gorgeous evocation of my favourite month. I can understand why June may seem more attractive and that the bleakness of this month, with the prospect of winter, can lead to despair. But I love wrapping up and walking in the chilly air.

brudberg said...

This is exactly why I cannot stand November

Kerry O'Connor said...

I can't even tell you how affected I am by this poem - just that it has brought me to tears.

Marian said...

Yes, yes... is this why we write so much in November?
I got some new fleecy pajamas but I don't think it's going to be enough. :)

Priscilla King said...

November is a cruel month. Detachment, philosophy, introversion get us through the November of life...