November Glory

Rachel Filkins

As November fades,

the storm newly breaks,

a new calm for the North.

All white, all cold,

nature withers beneath

its blanket.

It’s winter’s show for the months ahead.

For us, it’s time to shelter, to remember

with fondness, to pass time

while we all wait, silent,

for summer anew.

Skies open, the flakes

all fall, a silence that carries,

pushing animals to hide away,

to flee with final cries.

It’s now come.

Alas, our November gold is gone.