November

November

 

A month of shadowy figures and forgotten memories

All Souls Day we recall past family and friends

Those who we loved and influenced our lives

Remembrance Sunday we lament insufferable loss

The nights have already out manouvered the days

Windy wet weather sends us scurrying to the hearth of home

As cloud laden skies fly passed with menacing ease

 a twig raps against the window pane of a autumnal bush

We fall into a reverie of loss and ponder our humanity

At the War Memorial the last post is sounded

We gaze up onto the obelisk at the neatly arranged names of the fallen

Into this gloom we face our own uncertainty and mortality

A chill causes our hearts to flutter with fear

It is the month of ghouls and nightly terrors

encased in the darkness of our native land

◄ Come down from the Hill

A Distant Field ►

Comments

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Stephen Gospage

Thu 4th Nov 2021 17:03

A fine poem, Keith. I love the idea of nights out manouvering days.

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