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| © Tanner Hill Dawn |
NOVEMBER
The stripped and shapely
Maple grieves
The ghosts of her
Departed leaves.
The ground is hard,
As hard as stone.
The year is old,
The birds are flown.
And yet the world,
In it's distress,
Displays a certain loveliness
The beauty of the bone.
Tall God must see our souls
This way, and nod.
Give thanks: we do,
Each in his place
Around the table during Grace.
~ John Updike
© Photograph and original music by "Lyle"
"Minuet Generator"