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November

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I wrap the light jacket more tightly around myself.
The autumn breeze blows,
Gently wiping a tear from my wind-chapped cheek.
The dead leaves around my Converse crunch like foil.
Sweet November

I stand tall above the polished stone,
Kneeling only once to the browning grass to place a daisy,
Your favorite.
Old Halloween decorations fall off the gate next to us.
The tree directly above has bare, stripped brances.
Dead November

The rustling leaves sing me a lullaby as I sit by your side.
My hand finds rest on the ground above you.
The sweet smell of fall reminds me of home,
I find myself drowning in a river of memories,
Like the times we spent in that wooden porch swing,
Or how we always got someone else to rake up the leaves.
Stirring November

I leave you, once again, with one look back.
In my mind you're there, freckled face forever frozen-
In that crooked-tooth smile.
Just as you had on a day mirroring this,
An autumn afternoon when the earth began spinning without you.
The chilly air surronds me in a warm embrace.
Your November





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DesertFlower said...
Nov. 6, 2008 at 7:04 pm
This one is great. It really spoke to me.
 
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