User Review( votes)
written by: Jeffrey Cyphers Wright
On padded rabbit paws, November
leaves us gifts of gold and amber.
Crimson, damson, saffron, and plum.
The hawthorn glows—a candelabrum,
its tips with topaz jets lit. Scarlet
pin oaks bleed into rust and russet.
Old elms, a cavernous canopy bestow
mirrored by orange parquetry below.
Preparing for slumber, oaks nod under
heavy crowns set with rubies and garnet.
Gingkoes drop lemony fans in heaps.
Bare crabapples have spent their wads.
One lone leaf greets me spinning down
to join its brethren scurrying around
seeking out a corner, a home to find.
In green gloves, a shy locust lags behind.
Or is it you back there half vanished
in mist, reminding me of my truest wish.