Water in November

When dawn is breaking,
through November mist
the trees are merely shadows
of a summer passed
and when I brush against
their branches
drops of water trickle
down my back.

By heart I know your letters
and every little word is like
a drop of water
to wear my strength away.

When dawn is breaking
I wash my dreams in sluggish water,
and breathe what’s cold and real
as hoarfrost on a broken rose.

Water in November

For Toni’s prompt on Mono no aware at toads. Do not know if I did it right, but to me the right color of such sorrow is grey.

November 29, 2018

16 responses to “Water in November

  1. You delivered the mournful mood in every line.. this one I felt deep down – and a timely moment to tell you how grateful i am for your poetry. You continue to inspire and amaze.

  2. I agree, the color of sorrow is gray. I like the ending of the first stanza as it brings to mind an image I can see and feel. And a great photo to boot.

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