Poetry Sunday

It's the first Poetry Sunday of the month, and it's appropriate to call out the eleventh month as we get ready for what may be a tough winter in a very tough year ... 

In November

by Lisel Mueller

Outside the house the wind is howling

and the trees are creaking horribly.

This is an old story

with its old beginning,

as I lay me down to sleep.

But when I wake up, sunlight

has taken over the room.

You have already made the coffee

and the radio brings us music

from a confident age. In the paper

bad news is set in distant places.

Whatever was bound to happen

in my story did not happen.

But I know there are rules that cannot be broken.

Perhaps a name was changed.

A small mistake. Perhaps

a woman I do not know

is facing the day with the heavy heart

that, by all rights, should have been mine.

Have a good day and enjoy the rest of your weekend. More thoughts coming.

Bilbo