A November Passing

A November Passing

Throughout the year from January to December,

Each month dresses itself in reflections that we remember.

Each brings with it tales of unexpected delight and visions of mystical things,

Or even specters that go bump in the night.

Some months hold a special meaning to many,

As boasted by November with Veteran’s Day and Thanksgiving’s plenty.

It’s a month of transition I’ve been told,

As trees change their color as we change our clothes,

They live their lives for both the young and the old.

The colors remind me of man’s ever-changing life,

When the winds of change bring us happiness or sometimes strife.

Yet, in these passing of days with its smiles and its tears,

It resembles a colorful November’s day, oh how they’ve colored my years.

It’s not with sorrow that I wave a goodbye,

To a recurring welcomed fall friend who might be boastful or shy.

For it’s the vibrant colors that each November displays,

That fills me with smiles and hope and memories of my boyish yesterdays.

Jumping in piles of leaves of red and gold all ablaze,

Were often times the only playground on which we could play.

Billowing clouds of leaves thrown all around,

Only to find them back before us all over the ground.

It was those times that my brothers and me,

Filled our days in the mountains without money you see.

There wasn’t a need for expensive gifts or packages,

Because our playground, our passion was November’s passing.

By: Dan R. Fowler

For: Astrid