Cold November Solace

Cold November Solace was published in an online journal called The Autumn Sound. The editors were fascinated by Autumn, its colors, and its essence. Unfortunately, this journal seems to have ceased to exist. I offer my poem here nonetheless.

Cold November Solace

November morn dawns cold

A slivered moon hangs like an icicle in a thin blue sky

The wet from yesterday’s rain has made the leaves banked against the fence

A muddy rime of decay

The coldest days of winter lie ahead

And silence holds the morning in a spell as

A feeling close to fear pushes the edge of my consciousness

Yet below the topmost layers of soil and leaves

Wrapped in a solace of dormancy

Life waits to burst from the womb of seeds and bulbs and roots

Tucked in against the winter’s night

There

Safe from the cold

Life rests

Waiting for a brighter dawn when once again

A gentle sky will rule a playground bright with color

I wait

Trusting the life below.

The fear that threatened crawls back to its cave

And the seeds and bulbs and roots deep within me

Begin the slow process of blossoming into dreams