POETRY -
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Trees rattle their bare bones in the whistling chill.
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November's Promise
by MJ Moore
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Welcome to November--
a sensuous symphony. Trees rattle their bare bones in the whistling chill. Brown frost crunches as boots break open the soggy path. The wind’s shadow whispers in dusky tones. Rain drips from bowed eaves, spatters on peaked piles of leaves drifting towards the sweet smell of decay. Only a few months until seed convulses and two leaves unfold. Hungry for their cut of the cycle. As darkness spreads Life relishes the bargain, dreaming of the first unfurling. |
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