NOVEMBER BETWEEN

                                                          

Spring drama and summer booty, now cached,

once again Mother Nature changes hats

and Gaudy October yields

to muted November’s aging fields.

Their many shades of browns and grays

underscore our shortening days.

At the fence, long rows

of brown corn stubble lead

to a spray of empty trees.

         Fans framing space

with limbs,

once lost in summer’s earnest greenery,                  

now, chilled,

reveal the interstitial beauty

of their gray twigged filigree.

Come inside.

Let’s toast nature’s annual evening time;

         Let fall your leaves,

         and sag your sap.

Enjoy Mother Nature’s windy music in the cracks.

We’ll light her logs and pour her wine.

Anticipate.

         She’ll soon unpack

         her stunning winter wardrobe wrap.                        

Dennis R. Keefe

November, 2008

 

LIGHTING VETERANS’ DAY

Our oldest light,

long in dim,

leaped,

recharged,

         Our star shooting through the night,

on veterans’ day

         to a site

         unknowable

         but boldly measured.

“Woke up this mornin’ with my Lord

Hang on, Jesus”

– her Lord of the living and now living with  the Lord –

“Woke up this mornin’ with my Lord . . . “

. . . in that lovely dwelling place

where the Son,

withholding no favors

bestows honor

on mothers
among others.

Another light to magnify the Lord.

Another light illuminating ancient words

that bookmark our lives.                                                                     

Inside, we greet,

view what’s left

and ponder the rest.

Outside, in the night,

Christmas parade lights form,

and stretch the street

back up the hill –

glowing lights

blinking, milling,

building

momentum –

some running mini laps

around girl scouts’ caps                                                                                             

then,

illuminating our holiday choices,

move away

         trailing

                  their

                           effects

                                             through

                                                               town.

Christmas will have its due.

Dennis R. Keefe

Oct. 29, 2019

November 17, 2007

 

PEACHTREE

It's time to acknowledge the end of the show
The last yellow leaves
On our backyard birch
Flutter in the cold
Hanging on for dear life and
Their one chance
To experience snow

Autumn began with my favorite tree
A maple, but to me, a peach
Not the one you stand beneath
But the one you strain to reach
Young, light green with fuzz
And a tinge of red

A tinge that used to lead the way

My autumn omen 
For an evolving color blast

New every year

But not this time

A summer storm wrenched that tree

Not even a stump remains

Its early coloring, a sign it seems
Of disease

Across the street

Favorite number two

Taller

With a magnificent spray of orange

which segue's to black branches
And dead dangling leaves
To spook Halloween

The usual progression did occur

A hard freeze whooshed us through
Brilliant reds

And gorgeous oranges and yellows

On the trees 

 

And underneath for a day or two

Then, browned, piled and kicked around

They traveled with the wind from yard to yard

DRK

11/9/19