November
Late November
Time stands still,
Echoes from
A whippoorwill;
Winter sky,
Silver blue,
Maple leaves,
A golden hue;
A hint of snow
Fills the air.
A whispered sigh,
“Is someone there?”
A stranger waves
Upon the hill.
November from
My windowsill.
from Cricket Magazine ©Charles Ghigna
6 comments:
Like the reflective tone and sensory details in this one. Lovely poem, Charles!
Thanks for hosting, Jama!
I told you on FB, but will say it again, this is a favorite "late" autumn poem (there have been so many this year!). I really like it!
Excellent. I love the mood of this poem. Does your son have an Autumn painting?
I love the whispered sigh. That sums of autumn to me!
Thanks, Linda, Joy and Laura, for your comments.
Joy, I appreciate your asking if my son has an "Autumn" painting. He posted some new pieces last night on his blog. Not sure if any of these would work with the November poem. Any suggestions? Here's his blog: Chip Ghigna Art
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