LATE NOVEMBER LIGHT
Late November Light
The late November light is strong
It transfuses the empty arms of trees
And radiates the wooded land along
The shelves of shale crumbling free
Falling in a rush of silver drops
To the gorge below where everything stops.
Darkened by the shade, a frozen spring
In a caul of ice, enfolds the rock. Ice manacles
The fallen limbs with a shining ring.
Then the smoky violet panicles
Of grass shift in the sparrowed weeds
As Ophelia whispers of willows and reeds.
Thank you Jon,
Love it.