Thursday, November 2, 2017

November



the wind is blade
of ice, cutting through the skin-
November sky is wrinkled  
in steel- blue fur & grey scarf-
the fallen leaves dot
streets in golden light & fading ink-

in the yellow-domed cathedral
the people light candles for the dead
and bring fresh flowers & rain-
soaked mourning cards
for some, the memories of departed souls
is a fleeting strain of music
light as whiff of red roses

for others, grief is heavy as winter boots 
pounding the cobbled stones
searching for signs
to go somewhere, anywhere
but this void, festering wound
slowly turning the bones to stone

i wait for sunsets
magnificent light show 
of bleeding purple, 
bristling orange & raunchy scarlet ribbons, 
thick with wild-eyed ardor
for life, ever unfolding-     



For dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - The pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visit.

31 comments:

  1. Always memories there of those lost. But have to keep on pushing on. Always that next sunrise.

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  2. Yes, those graves and candles... it's the time to remember death and the dead. A perfect time for morning. Our titles are exactly the same for the poem.

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  3. A lovely poem Bjorn. I love how it describes November - a time for remembering those we have lost. "i wait for sunsets
    magnificent light show"...beautiful lines these are.

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  4. Fall has fallen for sure, and November is winter's proxy as frost greets us now every morning--the yard littered with shriveled dead things--but November is also the beginning of the holiday season, and with some effort I can get a whiff of turkey baking.

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  5. "grief is heavy as winter boots pounding the cobbled stones
    searching for signs to go somewhere, anywhere but this void".. this is so raw and poignant.. sigh..

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  6. Your beautiful poem made me reach for a woolly jumper, Grace! I love the lines:
    'the wind is blade
    of ice, cutting through the skin';
    '...the memories of departed souls
    is a fleeting strain of music'
    and
    'grief is heavy as winter boots
    pounding the cobbled stones'.

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  7. I liked this description of the memories of departed people: "a fleeting strain of music
    light as whiff of red roses".

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  8. I can hear it all. The somber tones, soliloquies, boots on cobblestone. Even the sunset hums something eternal for the departed. Well done, Grace.

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  9. A wonderful descriptive write of November and the remembrance of those loved and lost. There is so much beauty I have read it over and over again.
    Anna :o]

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  10. Your words paint vivid pictures as always; I especially like "steel- blue fur & grey scarf-" Thanks for sharing and hosting at dVerse!

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  11. Stunning! rain soaked mourning cards; a fleeting strain of music
    light as whiff of red roses; and grief, heavy as winter boots....such beautiful imagery for the many faces of grief.

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  12. I do like this poem, Grace. There are so many ways of accepting death, or not. Depends on so many things, and I love the way you touch on them. Life is what matters though, as you point out.

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  13. Samhain is a special time to connect with those departed and as you say so poignantly here, this can be very difficult for some. A beautiful poem Grace, I love the final stanza especially xxx

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  14. Beautiful description of November's dressing. I love how you depicted grief-so apt.

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  15. This is a truly magnificent piece on grief and one that can slowly "turn the bones to stone".

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  16. The last stanza is fecking awesome.

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  17. What a great imagery and flow!
    "but this void, festering wound
    slowly turning the bones to stone"
    I found these lines amazing.

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  18. I like all these melancholy posts. That pic is amazing, where is it?

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  19. I like the lovely and uplifting ending of this.

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  20. What word pictures you have created. I can feel your November in my bones. Well done.

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  21. I love winter boots and mittens.

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  22. Turning bones to stone...sums up all that is November, fall and grief in this poignant poem,

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  23. Grace your poem is so fitting for me right. Four days ago was the anniversary of the passing of my dad. The sense of his presence has been so strong these past few days.Much like your line "a fleeting strain of music
    light as whiff of red roses". Well done.

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  24. thick with wild-eyed ardor
    for life, ever unfolding-

    There are always new things unfolding as life is so unpredictable! Very true Grace!

    Hank

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  25. A wonderfully visual poem. Love the use of colour particularly there toward the end, but also the grief as boots make a great metaphor.

    I have several friends that are recovering from a miscarriage and I image it is like putting on heavy boots each morning. For now at least. But they are still moving. It is a journey.

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  26. Such a beautiful write!! Well done Grace.

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  27. November does feel like a cool, long night where the haunting dead commiserate with the mournful living as the last leaves fall away. You captured the essence of this brilliantly.

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  28. Wonderfully drawn. Brilliant images, infused with color and activity. I am there.

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  29. It is November here in Detroit, we are still seeing warmer weather and last night saw thunder storms and rain for hours.

    Perhaps more people need to go to the cathedral and think upon them who passed to a place far different from this one. It ain't the same as it once was Grace.

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  30. I like the description of the sunset best.

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