dVerse — Poetics 428 — November

November creeps labile, weak, clinging to memories of warm-vigored nights; then casts them to bitter cold winds where tears fall in sheets. Careless deer, callous to lilies’ needs, nibble their leaves, leaving stark stalks that cannot feed summer’s hopes of rainbow starbursts. Spent frogs, turtles, and furry crawlers dig or weave beds, hoping for pleasant…