the chills we caught
when the days grew short?
Your cold-kissed cheeks
blushed raw —
your hard numb knuckles
which I longed to
suck on
and feel soften in the moist warmth of
my mouth.
We watched the silver-haloed moon
sail through threaded clouds,
behind the lacework of bare, brittle branches.
You said it looked lovely.
(Oh! The things you say
my sweet November!)
I found it rather dreary.
When I finally extended my hand
to take yours,
my fingers grasped only icy night —
and no November.
You were gone, already.
2 comments:
This felt like a love poem to November, and I questioned wether November was simply the month personified, of if November was a person, I really liked that I was unsure, (if that makes sense).
"We watched the silver-haloed moon sail through threaded clouds, behind the lacework of bare, brittle branches." is especially beautiful.
Thank you Charles for posting these Bristol poems! it is an excellent glimpse into Bristol...mainly Bristol's weather ;) but excellent nonetheless. Sorry I haven't been commenting regularly!
The alliteration in this was simply gorgeous. This is possibly one of my favourite poems of yours because it really felt like you were revelling in the glory of the words just as much as the love for November.
"Cold-kissed cheeks blushed raw"
"Hard numb knuckles"
"silver-haloed moon sail through threaded clouds behind the lacework of bare, brittle branches"
....so beautiful. Just wonderful. It was a pleasure to read and I read it through many times just to sink into the feeling.
The only thing that stopped me was the personification of November - there's a strange tension that I found awkward between it taking tangible form and yet being abstract as well. Actually kind of reminded me of how the ancient Greeks saw their gods as both manifesting in natural phenomena but have anthropomorphic form (lol I've been too wrapped up in my Greek Mythology class lately :P). Anyway I'm not sure if I like it or not, all I know is that it stuck out so maybe there are a few kinks.
But otherwise a very beautiful poem.
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