My November Poem by Almedia Knight-Oliver

Should I regret November as guest, thirty nights and days standing there bare like sticks and bones.
I sit wrinkled and merely skin and bones, fully immersed in thought of family and friends long gone, and now floating on the waves of death before being washed upon the beach of life.
Though ruminating past lives, still am fully in the present inhaling summer perfume and musing mood dissolving like the clouds being swallowed up by the ocean sky.
Apart from that, me-myself-and-i beholds the sun descending into the horizon within the place love and peace dwell.
Oh' how she loves strolling in Prospect park where pathways meet, greet, then part and continue the circle all over again...
She sucks in breath, feet grips the cracked ground yet keeping in full control of her mind.
The sounds of summer and sights dance well into the night!
Such sights keep her mind from raging with fear of the inevitable date with death!
That November has come to an end and the cold travels the same path as death, all dressed in her snowy clothes; heavy clouds spread over the dark sky, and below one hand holds onto the cane- as she trudges further into winter leaving everything behind...


November 19,2017