afternoon poem, november 3, 2015



The oaks are golden on this November afternoon

Glossy leaves shine, as if they are happy

To bathe in warmth and light

And lift and nod in the easy breeze.


There has yet been no frost

And here and there a bee hovers and drifts

Over and around the red crab apples in the dwarf trees


All content for the moment

But all of it aching

For consumation

And everlasting life.


Copyright 2015

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