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
Björn Rudbergs writings 
I totally agree about such sorrow being grey. You nailed this prompt beautifully.
Great write, Björn…
… your words make me want to weep, from sadness – from the sheer beauty of your poem.
I agree that grey is the color of sorrow. Your poem weaved such sadness in its lines, but also such lovely imagery.
I LOVE this, especially each word acting like water to wear your strength away. Wow, that is powerful.
Oh, how gorgeously wistful, and wistfully gorgeous!
gray without saying the word. Nice transition of stanza’s
Something this beautiful has to be right
Beautiful and I agree about sorrow being grey
Fall days get monatinous and dreary, there is no escape so tire along with the momentum.
..
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.
Broken nose, ouch! I love this whole thing, that second stanza particularly.
The emotions that you stir in this poem – so beautifully sad.
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.
Absolutely beautiful. Love the way you use water throughout.
Yes, I could feel loves hurt in you beautiful poem Bjorn; an incredibly beautiful poem indeed.