November

Cold night, heavy rain
Late October
You stay up
And wait for the light
To see what’s left

 But you know.

You feel the needles,
Leaves, and broken limbs
Under your bare feet
As you duck under
Severed power lines.

You know.

There remains
Above you, around you,
In the dark
Fragments of a fallen season.

 You know.

 Light comes
And there is a vaster sky
Blue like you never saw before.
The crisp air
Offers a new season.
 It’s November.
 It’s cold.
 November: why we learned to build fires,
Why we gather ’round them,
Why we cherish the stories we find there.

 You know.

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