flurries in the morning, grey in the afternoon

snow!

gentle, beautiful, peaceful snow.

the robins have been gorging on the fat, red

crabapples for days and now they can barely fly.

the seasons are changing.

i can feel the tug of halloween and day of the dead,

urging us to turn within,

to remember those who have passed before us.

and as november approaches,

our mammal selves yearn for the comforts of 

food and burrow and den.

and even as the reluctance in me grows,

i feel a stirring of new beginnings.

while i dread turning backward on dreams as i head south, 

i cultivate hope and energy for the next chapter.

i have so many ideas for november.

here's a peek at number one...

beginning on november 9th,

i will read my way through this book,
each poem according to the date.

won't you join me?