April 4th – Cruellest Month

November

All is faded.
Fireworks only speak
to highlight
the stasis
of things;
only to show us
the mulching leaves
in the gutter;
only to
shriek at the cold.

We light bonfires
to warm ourselves –
to celebrate;
either failure
or ingenuity –
no one remembers which.

After the flames,
there is only frost again –
only this –
bleak fields
and a more
timid sun.

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