November
Cold night, heavy rain Late October You stay up And wait for the light To see what’s left But you know. You feel the needles, Leaves, and broken limbs Under your bare feet As you duck under Severed power lines. You know. There remains Above you, around you, In the dark Fragments of a fallen season. You know. Light comes And there is a vaster sky Blue like you never saw before. The crisp air Offers a new season. It’s November. It’s cold. November: why we learned to build fires, Why we gather ’round them, Why we cherish the stories we find there. You know.