Marcola, November’s End

The rain holds conversations with itself

and with the wind,

falling down on several metal roofs,

tapering off, then thinking

of something more to say,

The over-full river

occasionally adds a murmur

We eavesdrop for a while

inside our cozy cabin

until lulled toward sleep,

our minds washed with visions

of the beckoning land.

©Wendy Mulhern

November 29, 2014