April may be the cruelest month
but November is subtle as the woman who got away
took you for everything even your dignity
& yet you pine
still bewildered

February may be a knife to your throat
but November leaves you gasping for air
rising to the surface
hoping to break the surface
before the ice closes in

June jumps July just jangles & May may
but November does as she wishes
haughty or hale loving or leaving
and not only can't you stop her
you couldn't even explain to her
why it might hurt

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

He's my favorite-T.S.-beautiful poem.-Laura