Earth grieves each November, again
finds itself wailing in sorrow,
refusing to get out of bed.
For its own tears and distresses,
the world collapses into itself,
spends the month grinding through
cold damp, discordant winds,
while its resistance slips away
into the long lonely meditation
that always follows death.
———-
From Li Po, “Listening to Lu Tzu Hsun play the ch’in on a moonlit night.” Thanks for the inspiration, Leonard!
Poems from in between 
8 responses to “11/20”
this is that november day. but in a good way. somehow…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes. It’s when the lake is wild that all November really takes over. Hope you are well.
LikeLike
So true. “its resistance slips away”
I love the spareness of the couplets, fits so well with the mood and sense.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you.
LikeLike
vivid images of a world collapsing “into itself.” so i knew where the poem was headed early on, but that last stanza bit me, anyway. having to do too much meditating lately, i guess. your poem tells the truth so powerfully.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, I am sorry to hear that. The last stanza came on as a bit of a surprise to me. But … well, yes. š¦
>
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wonderful capture of the mood of this time of year.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! Appreciate the feedback.
LikeLike