Worlds Away

what the nomad brought home


Stagnant light falls sideways,
Expiring in a graveyard of branches stripped
By the fire of dying trees.
Remnants of the life of summer brittle underfoot,
The full moon turns to ice,
And the season’s short-lived blaze burns out precarious
As flames shrink into kindling, drop —
Apologetic embers —
To the earth, whose dreams of ripeness and fruition withered
In the cold and hollow winds that slashed the morning,
Forced their way in through its wounds,
And have replaced the warmth I lost
When autumn stole my sun.

I’ve never liked November.


After a long drive today through rural Maryland and Pennsylvania, I couldn’t help but feel that the weight of autumn has finally fallen upon us.  Barely any color left, it’s cold, dry, and dark-too-soon.  When a string of depressed, tiny towns gave way to where I live now, it was already near dusk; a day barely begun was already ending.  As you can tell, I’m not a big fan of the month’s arrival.  I sat down to write this very disorganized, hasty poem.

But my apologies to those who have a fondness for November — I don’t dislike the whole month.  I just don’t like the beginning of it.  But by the end of November, the holidays are approaching, and the warmth and color that have drained from the outdoors have reappeared inside homes and shops and hearts, and there is life again!

November 1, 2009 - Posted by | Poetry, Time | , , , , ,


  1. i have always thought i like the winter more than the summer, until i realized that there is no real winter in israel. no snow. no real cold. barely a rain. more like a golden autumn (but warmer) in europe.

    just back to munich now after two month in sunshine israel. not sure why and what but looking forward for that new adventure.

    Comment by Utopian Fragments | December 3, 2009 | Reply

  2. As someone whose absolute favorite season is autumn, November in particular, this perspective is really interesting, but not in the ‘Sideways’ way – more like the six year old who, upon seeing the sea for the first time, looked out over its dead, flat calm and said ‘how ugly.’ It’s just not something I commonly hear, and only now can I see autumn as the withering decay that it is outside my own mind and eyes.

    So, for this perspective, thank you.

    Comment by tradersolstice | December 9, 2009 | Reply

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