November

We are not hardened yet for winter

though it is November

and trees stand almost bare

and though each day is noticeably shorter

The frost on roofs this morning

met us unprepared

Our bones felt cold,

our flesh tensed up against them

We are not hardened yet for winter

though it’s not as cold as it will get

We have the heat turned up

inside our cozy house

And we turn back like cats

when we go out

No saunters on the sand today —

A brisk walk is required

And even short forays outside

have left us tired

We are not hardened yet for winter

But soon

we’ll open up our doors to what it gives

Feel the brisk cleansing of its mountain breath

that, summoning our inner fires,

calls us to live.

©Wendy Mulhern

November 10, 2012