In the night
\nNovember came.
\nThe grayest of all months,
\nfollowing the brightest.
\nA phantasmagoric change.
\nLike the severed wing of a boat,
\na wake sinking to the bed
\nof the river\u2019s darkness,
\na nautilus curled up
\nlike a cherub.
\nWhere did the sky go, it cries!
\nWhy am I in this cold womb?
\nThen falls quiet under the silt.
\nWhat rescues its serene beauty?
\nHow can the spirit cope
\nas the sun falls into a prairie of stars?
\nOnly the snow, flirting in the air
\nof Thanksgiving,
\nthe bells of Christmas,
\nand candles of Hanukkah.
\nDreamtime,
\npastel evenings melting in the clouds,
\nopening roads
\nlike umbilicals to spring<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
In the night November came. The grayest of all months, following the brightest. A phantasmagoric change. Like the severed wing of a boat, a wake…<\/p>\n