I cannot tell you what tomorrow holds
nor what yesterday means just yet,
but I know last evening I listened
as summer's last songbird splashed
its lyrics against a tangerine sky,
its sentinel voice bowing
to river's restless murmurings
of numbered sun-drenched days.
I smiled as stubborn oak, fully ablaze,
stood defiant, prepared to hang on 'till spring
despite wind's gorging appetite
while more prudent creatures scampered
and burrowed beneath falling, spiraling
canopy, snuggling spring's promise
and I adjusted my jacket, pulled out
my mittens, and saw my breath
beneath beaver moon's filtered light.
Margaret Bednar, November 6, 2013
This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Get Listed with Ed Pilolla" and "Poety Jam - What do you Know for Sure"
I believe this year's "beaver moon" will happen around November 15th - but it worked for the poem, so go with it :)
Photography is courtesy of my friend "J.B." (thank you!)