November

We speak of beginnings and ends,
      of dawns and setting suns,
Yet we move from day to day,
      from rhyme to rhyme
Remembering hours and hours
      before our cognizance
And dreaming up new futures
      all the time.

We speak of taking time.
      November you’re the same
As an early dusk to close
      an autumn day:
I want more warmth from you,
      more flicker in your flame;
I miss the light of September
      and the youth of May.

We speak of tomorrow’s return
      to yesterdays; we dream
Of nothing less or more
      than what we know,
Imagining that spring
      is somewhere down the stream
Replenishing our current
      blessings’ flow.

We speak from where we are
      to where we want to be;
We want to be where we’ve
      already been.
November you’re the source
      of this endless reverie
And in your darkness
      We reset the scene.