November

^__________________^¿c_______________—&. ^ November ^ This is a yearly rumination, A moment ofbreathless suspension Hanging on a change in season. Nothing is forgiven in November. Nothing is forgotten, when the sunlight Shines unhindered through the barren hill-tops. Between remembrance ofthe past, And future possibility, Lies a smug and tranquil inner silence. All is at once made clear: At the center lies an endless sadness, And Merlin, rising with the dying ofthe year, Sees his shadow in the autumn sunshine, And knowing it for what it is, accepts it. I will throw-offthe shelter you offer. I will drink the autumn's bitter purity, Finding some solace in the still, cold air. This is the only season ofreflection, The yearly feast of abjuration, A litany ofresignation. Teny Hibpshman ^W & ...