November

Somewhere in the swampy woods, the fox
Dens up down some deep hole.

Just after noon, the sun warm on my back,
The wind flapping my trousers
Like flags from my shins
Too warm
I peel off my jacket and stand against the wind
Watching clouds, white and dark, moving fast
Across patches of blue until they
Cover the sun.

Too cold without the sunshine, I turn into
The wind. Trousers pressed against my knees,
I slip on my jacket against the sudden chill,
The teeth of the season.

Around the corner, as the sun returns,
I stand against the wall attracting
The last warm
Rays of the retreating year
Focusing on a point far away
Where the sky
Is blue

Part of me wants to dig a hole
And crawl deep down inside.

The sun warms
My skin
But the chill blows through
My soul

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Comments 11 comments

juneaukid profile image

juneaukid 6 years ago from Denver, Colorado

You've captured a November essence


Doug Turner Jr. 6 years ago

I too find myself taking off and then putting back on the jacket quite often this time of year. But you make that simple process sound so elegant as you absorb the state of the earth around you. Another poem full of nature and vivid images. Thanks.


Tom Rubenoff profile image

Tom Rubenoff 6 years ago from United States Author

Thank you, poets. I love this time of year, but perhaps it makes me think too much. :)


Debby Bruck profile image

Debby Bruck 6 years ago

Hi Tom. I like the way you began with the fox in the deep hole and ended with wanting to dig and crawl into that hole, probably to get out from that soul-chilling wind. Bravo!


Tom Rubenoff profile image

Tom Rubenoff 6 years ago from United States Author

Thanks, Debby!


scriber1 6 years ago

Gives "to chill" an entirely new meaning......thanks Tom


Tom Rubenoff profile image

Tom Rubenoff 6 years ago from United States Author

Thank you, Scriber!


prasetio30 profile image

prasetio30 6 years ago from malang-indonesia

November is winter time, right? I miss the snow. Thanks for bringing the November in your poem. ~prasetio


Tom Rubenoff profile image

Tom Rubenoff 6 years ago from United States Author

Thank you, Prasetio. :) It is almost winter time, but we don't usually get much snow before January.


Petra Vlah profile image

Petra Vlah 6 years ago from Los Angeles

"the sun warms/ my skin/ but the chill blows through/ my soul" - that is November in more ways than one and at times I feel it, at times I imagine it, at times I anticipate it, but most often I dread it. When that happens I too want "to dig a hole/ and crawl deep down inside"


Tom Rubenoff profile image

Tom Rubenoff 6 years ago from United States Author

Thirty degrees Fahrenheit this morning. I think I'll ride my bicycle. Maybe later I'll dig the hole. :)

Thank you, Petra.

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