November

The time of year when nature suddenly grows restless.
You hear it in the wind that stirs the maple tree,
You hear it crackling through the cornfields.
You see it softly brush itself
Against the dying vines.
You see it hesitate as it slowly wends it's way
through the orchard.
apples blush as it passes by.

The time of year when all of nature seems to yearn
for winters silent sleep.
The stars look down on a dying world;
The icy fingers of the moon
grip the rim of the evening sky
The human heart responds in kind
slowing in it's pace;
reaching out for unseen things
Unsure of all it feels.
Trees lift arthritic limbs
and shiver in the cold.

The time of year when everything turns inward;
Frost clings to the window panes
like sketchy pieces of broken glass
Smoke drifts lazily
from chimneys long unused.
nuts lie like teardrops
frozen where they fall
The soul pauses in the lull
to contemplate the changes;
stilled for now it hesitates
to let it's secrets go. -mrs darling