At dVerse Sanaa is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write about November, which in the north is Autumn while in the south is Spring.
“Can words describe the fragrance of the very breath of spring?” Neltje Blanchan
Emerging Velvet cinnamon nights, swirl-tongued around feelings twined with gilt laden stubble in halo vested fields where warmth seeps into my bones, restoring the ravages of winter's scars once again, nested with feathered joy and such vaulted awakening as if chrysalis like, taking first breaths in a new scape novembered almost, but not quite as before, emerging adventitiously as no other. ©Paul Vincent Cannon
Oh yes, feeling the delicious warmth of the southern spring, warming through these formerly frigid bones!
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O joy, it is so good.
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This is absolutely stellar, Paul! 💝 I especially love; “nested with feathered joy and such vaulted awakening as if chrysalis like, taking first breaths in a new scape novembered almost.” As always I am in awe of your imagery 😀
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A great poem of images of spring! I can’t imagine Spring in November!!
Dwight
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Many thanks Dwight, it sure would be a trick given our respective geography. 🙂
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Time is only a figment of our imagination!!
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Absolutely so Dwight.
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Lovely, Paul…nothing like spring!
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I do love seasons, but spring is special as I see it.
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I agree. Seeing life return is uplifting…especially after our harsh and long winters.
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Yes, so different in the north, must be quite a stark change.
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Our weather’s snow and freezing one day, 70F degrees and sunny the next…🥴
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Our crazy north-south seasons 🙂
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🥴
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Amazing poem
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Many thanks for sharing that.
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The idea of spring in November is quite literally foreign to me. This perspective is fascinating. Also, I like the use of the word “adventitiously.”
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Yes, I find the autumn foreign too, our crazy north south seasons. I very much appreciated your thoughts on the poem, thank you.
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Those of us in the northern hemisphere tend to overlook the fact that November is the harbinger of Spring for folks “down under”. Thank you for the reminder!
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I still marvel at the difference, makes me smile that we are so different, glad to remind Beverly, thank you.
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Oh, spring… I have to rethink November as May… and then see something emerging
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Yes, bit of a twist, it certainly is amazing that a simple tilt on a revolution of the earth is what it takes.
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Just beautiful! 🙂
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Many thanks, I love your response.
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Your poem captures so well the sense of rebirth and second chances that come with spring–although it was a bit disorienting at first to have this feeling associated with November. Here in the northern part of the Northern Hemisphere, November is pretty much the hour of lead. Enjoy your spring!
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Just that simple tilt on the revolution of a spinning ball, what a marvel. When you say lead, I’m not reading much positivity into it 🙂
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Yes, in addition to the grayness, my mother and my brother both died in November.
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O, I am sorry to hear that, time locates, and is hard to change, especially when it’s located in the heart. Thank you for sharing that Liz.
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I can feel your exuberance! Do you shear sheep? Just wondering because of your photo caption.
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Sort of, I farmed for a while out in the wheat-belt, I didn’t professionally shear, but I did emergency shearing if my sheep became fly-blown. I would have been far tooo slow to become professional, I was better at other things. The picture is the drive up to the shearing shed on our farm which holds many sacred memories, so yes, exuberance for all of that. Well spotted Lisa, thank you.
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Ah! I bet you could write many poems about the shearing shed (and probably have.)
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I haven’t yet, but one day … they were hard working days yet such fun too.
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I love the sound of those velvet cinnamon nights, Paul, especially since frost has started creeping across the UK, and the lines:
‘taking first breaths in a new
scape novembered almost,
but not quite as before’.
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Many thanks for your response Kim. I vaguely remember my first eight years where I grew up in Nottingham, and a sense of child’s excitement about snow, I wouldn’t be quite so excited now.
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I love mist and frost but have never enjoyed snow since a traumatic episode when I was about five. It looks magical – from inside – but I hate going out in it.
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I’m sorry that you went through such a thing, thank you for sharing that.
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My Oz friends are celebrating the arrival of Spring …. while here in Bend Oregon I hope our winter is not severe. We live on the high desert which is truly unpredictable. This poem is beautifully constructed …. sheep shearing reminds me of a trip to NZ years ago and most lovely stay on a sheep farm.
I would love to travel back one day.
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Yes, amazing that tilt of the earth, that trip would have been delightful I’m sure and I hope you realise your desire to travel again. Unpredictable sounds wonderful but not? Friends who’ve been to Oregon sing high praises. Many thanks Helen, I enjoyed your comments very much.
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For me, its like rothpoetry commented: Cant imagine spring in November. But the poem is amazing for trying to do.
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Ah, a challenge I see. Yes how amazing the difference. Thank you Michael.
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:-))
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Wonderful!
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Thank you Kaylee 🙂
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Beautiful – love the photo too brings back such deep rememberings
>
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Yes, misty eyed memories.
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