Dear November,
You are so beautiful. I roll around in your precious cargo of orange and yellow leaves, some crisp, some freshly fallen on my face and in the palm of my hand. Your warm autumn air engulfs my body like flaming kindling in the fireplace. I look up through the boughs of oak and maples and see blue sky; and a few branches not ready to give up their dresses. Or maybe dresses not yet willing to depart from their boughs. A single leaf flutters down, flitting in spiralling circles before landing adjacent to my right hand.
Its’ veins resemble my veins.
Its’ color, my color.
I think I Continue reading “Dear November”