In Mid November

By John I. Blair

In mid November
When the blue sky
Gleams with glorious rays
And the oaks, the sweet gums,
Take on a dozen hues,

I think perhaps
I’ll make it through the winter,
The long nights, the frozen air,
Squirrels hiding in their dreys,
Birds flying south.

Already in November
I know the time of
Shorter days and scanty sun
Is almost past,
The darkest night is near,

And whatever eyes might see
My story says
New light, new life
Will soon be here.

©2018 John I. Blair, 11/14/2018