November - Kate Dougherty

[Lawrence Robinson]

November

After all these years
of knowing him without knowing him,
I journeyed half a day;
a pilgrim seeking poems and song.
Heal this heart and soul.

It was Fall, the way began with grape vines
burning bushes like soldiers in a row.
Then came the golden ginkgos, tall
either side of the road.
And jubilations of leaves descended
like gold coins, confetti with no sound —
only arias  leaves in wind,
rushed awe, glorias in tongues.

But leaves fell like this
before wealth was gilded, before confetti crafted,
before parades of victory tributes
rewrote histories of war.

The grace I passed through was November,
as natural as dying,
shedding skin, losing hair.
Something brittle lets go 
and wind 
being the stronger partner
leads the leaving spin.

That night
No goat was loaded 
with all our sins 
and a bell
then spooked 
into St Joseph’s hills. 
Everyone let in, everything let in.
The music opened wounds
then cleansed them.
Balm — blessings for the journey home.

And in this recollection
words rise from within
	be glad you lived
	and know Me
	soon comes the wind

	- Kate Dougherty
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