Threshold

Pewter and ivory satin the sky,

beaten copper and bronze the leaves,

bare-shouldered, the island landscape

crosses the threshold to another November.

The wind rises to meet her - a cold shawl

trailing dry fringe through the trees.

Listen, listen to November's wind,

again that lonely and translucent singing.

You've read  of  free articles. Subscribe to continue.
QR Code to Threshold
Read this article in
https://www.csmonitor.com/1995/1026/26174.html
QR Code to Subscription page
Start your subscription today
https://www.csmonitor.com/subscribe