In The Lingering of November

Almost December,
I wonder what it will bring with it,
however much I try not to.
I think about the things we think
we always wanted,
the ones we got,
and the ones that got away,
in the middle of the day,
in the glaring light of dawn,
in the fading twilight,
in the moonlight
in the dark night,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
starlight, star bright, oh…
it’s alright, alright.
I think about the graceless wandering
of insomnia that sticks,
that catches,
that tugs at the mind or the soul or the heart,
to walk it around turning on lights,
drinking water, making chamomile tea,
looking for something on tv, trying to read,
seeking comfort when the quiet is too loud,
wound up like a knot that no one can undo, only me,
only you, only time will release it, only letting go,
until the first yawn,
until the tension is gone,
for a moment long enough for sleep to slip
back in,
that we might dream again,
and find therein
whatever longing has eluded our waking,
in the lingering
of November.

TS   11/29/17



Categories: 2017, a moment, A post by Teri Skultety, grace, moments in time, poem, Poetry, prayer, prose, quiet, Resilience and The Modern Woman, Reverence, Sacred, salvation, Solitude, soul, stay true, The Writerly Life

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