Bernadette Cremin

November

November is nursing my weathered eye
so staring through the shallow horizon
I will this spiteful winter to subside.

The relentless grey has rendered me blind
and I crave the memory of cloud-cotton.
November is nursing my weathered eye

and no matter how hard the view may try
it can not comfort a storm with reason.
I will this spiteful winter to subside

so as the carnage can not be denied:
the damage abandoned by late autumn.
November is nursing my weathered eye
  and the sun half-hides like a guilty spy
as frozen bullets bludgeon the season.
I will this spiteful winter to subside
 
and lend the aching sky to kinder light:
let weather undress like a chameleon.
November is nursing my weathered eye.
I will this spiteful winter to subside.

Bernadette Cremin © 31 August 2007