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Thinking about November’s many moods
Jane_112819
JANE’S DOG FINNEGAN enjoys a romp in the cool fall weather as much the next dog. What he thinks about while running through the winter snows remains to be seen.

VIOLA - November

 

Somewhere between hiking through the woods in a sweatshirt and bundling up in a winter jacket lies the month of November. 

 

It’s a month that includes all the seasons, providing us with plenty of contradictions. The slanted autumn sunlight makes the world glow from radiant reds to a dull brown. 

 

It’s a month that inspires poetry. 

 

***

 

Hogback

 

You

lying

naked

belly down

like a queen

 

We

become

travelers

encompassed

in your

narrow

width

 

Lost

in length

wrapped

in time

 

Let

it be years

before

I forget

the

loveliness

of your

spine

 

***

 

Fifty Shades of Green

 

Ah, Wisconsin 

soaring hills

sinuous roads

cavernous valleys

 

Ample and slender trees

Towering, bending,

thrashing

 

You look lovely

 

I want to taste your

buds, savor the

sweetness of spring

 

Phlox of passionate purple,

luscious lavender, and virginal white

wave in fields,

dance creekside

 

Peepers quaver

Whippoorwills trill

Eagles soar

 

Ah, Wisconsin

I am smitten.

 

***

 

Magic

 

Moss-covered rocks cut into stairs 

sharp shades of green.

 

Long, narrow caves calling my name

sand-filled bottoms, damp, pungent.

 

Dirt trail snaking through white spruce

pine-covered overlooks, river far below.

 

Cool, lush valley bottom

Streams running the length of

giant sandstone walls

telling of change.

 

One yellow lady slipper 

hiding

safe behind the ferns.

 

***

 

Wind Dance

 

Trees dancing outside my window

Wind playing in my ear

Rain splashing downward

Nobody near.

 

Warm and damp.

Gray and black.

 

Branches falling

Cradling empty nests

Lying across paths

Making it hard to pass.

 

Lost leaves swirling 

Rushing

Rushing

Rushing

Past.

 

***

 

20 MPH

 

Rush only if you must.

You won't be here forever

 

Our time is limited

 

The world longs for us to see

 

We won't be here forever

 

Go

slow

pay attention

 

Stop

notice

breathe

 

Only 

rush

if you must.

 

Columbine

Phlox

Wild geraniums

won't last

forever

 

neither will we.

 

***

 

The Calling

 

In between light and dark

Purple and pink

Bare trees and thin ice

There is a pond

Calling your name.

 

***

 

An Animal

 

I am nothing but an animal, I said,

Peering up from the ground.

I awoke from the earth only this morning.

Dirt under my nails. Hair unkempt.

 

I scoured for berries

Fingers stained red, then blue.

Belly full.

 

I travel alone.

Slowly.

Taking in the smells and sights.

 

I touch a tree. Pick up a pine cone.

Feel the earth under my boots.

Hands and feet.

Hands and feet.

 

My eyes see. My heart feels.

My brain swims with images,

Thoughts and theories.

 

When I tire, I lie down.

Curled.

Cuddled.

 

***

 

Dear Leaves,

 Forgive me

  for silently screaming

   "Hang on,"

      when your one job in fall

        is to let go.