Tuesday, November 27, 2012


The stripped and shapely
Maple grieves
The loss of her
Departed leaves.

The ground is hard,
As hard as stone.
The year is old,
The birds are flown.
And yet the world,
Displays a certain
Loveliness --
The beauty of
The bone. Tall God
Must see our souls
This way, and nod.

 Give thanks: we do,
Each in his place
Around the table
During grace.

:: "November" by John Updike, published in A Child's Calendar ::


momtooandpapab said...

Beautiful poem; and it looks like you had a beautiful day of giving thanks.

m&mgivens said...


allison teal said...

I love this poem Ri! My favorite from that book. Great minds think alike right?=0) Glorious November to you my friend, ....it WAS!