I’ve decided to share a little poem that I wrote about November.  Somehow, I actually like November, even though it’s full of talk about the end of Fall and the beginning of Winter. But, it is still warmish, and it is so brave somehow, those last leaves clinging so gorgeously. Well, maybe I’ll elaborate on that some other time. Here’s my poem, simply called,

A November Poem

— Cathryn Keefe O’Hare

November trees

bare secrets now

through openings

in forest walls

and starlings swoop

on a stage of sky

so blue the white

clouds swarm while

ruddy leaves rustle,

and fall to the ground,

astounded.