The sky’s a crush of blue on blue
with every blue in between, and
we’ve seen our share of dragon
clouds. Autumn breeze has caught
the crimson gold treeskirts off guard,
and they’re shedding fast. At last
we’ve got a slight chill and I wish
I could still the days and sit awhile,
warm drink in unbusy hands and a quiet
smile busting open my thankful heart.
In November, we poem.