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
Stephen Gospage
Thu 4th Nov 2021 17:03
A fine poem, Keith. I love the idea of nights out manouvering days.