a November poem

 

an autumn day before it gets too cold

Golden sunshine poured

through windows

Onto carpet, desk,

and cat - and

gave us a bright day in November

So that we could almost

forget that it was November.

A civil breeze only 

barely lifted

leaves and coat edges -

Seeming diplomatic and social, 

not ferocious,

letting people say to 

each other,

'It's a nice day!'

Early sunset dropped a

Line of petal-pink before

our eyes

before

Darkness replaced it.

With the ebony curtain of night,

We stopped thinking about

the nice day

and began

Picturing

what we can do with our

two days off

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-30-