NOVEMBER

Photo by S. Auberle

NOVEMBER

There is always that last day,
the one you never wanted to see
and yet what is more astonishing?
This is the day
before the day
when November settles in.
This is the day
out in the woods
when last silver moths
are winging from mossy stump to leaf,
the day of the last chorus
of swans in the bay,
their call melting over my skin
like warm honey.
Today the quiet ladybugs,
awakened by brief sunlight,
are making their slow journeys,
today last leaves are letting go
tumbling down to the beckoning earth.
This is the day I find that hidden shelf
of rock over tossing water,
hard couch of longing
for days of summers past.
This is the amazing day
I watch a proud mink
trotting into the forest,
fur gleaming, dark, wet,
a fish in its mouth
wriggling in the ecstasy
of November's little deaths.

- mimi