And so it is November.
Darkness slips in under the door early and settles down on the couch next to you
And you gently scoot over to make room.
You wear socks.
Your grocery store purchases include beef broth, mushrooms,
And lightly salted melancholy.
It's still early in the month, so you can ignore
What the Disney channel, in its cacophonous and uncanny ability
To stretch months taut,
Claims is the most wonderful time of the year.
No, not yet, not yet.
You take deep breaths, cool ones.
Run your hands under warm water,
Pull on the cardigan through one sleeve then another.
Remember that you had lost a button last year.
Let these three weeks soak in sweet delay,
As the liquidambar leaves begin their littering
And your sweet baby snuggles in
Beside you and Darkness on the couch.