Life’s Little Misdirections 🥀🦋

November Hush

November hush, colorful castoffs sleep —
their dreams fade, interlocked on a hard mattress.

Soft, pristine descent of tiny-winged angels come.

Gray time swept up into prolonged nights,
resist allure of outlasting that twelfth chime.

Memories cascade — serenading symphony comes —

Her holiday confections rise in oven, whisper
to a soft nose, as I cuddled in hand-me-downs.

Decorations ascend; presents find their shrouds.
Music wanders about a quiet truce in our home.

A temporal refuge, our family's respite.
Time to unwind, be present, and be family.
Thanksgiving's embrace, feast tradition,
revel in comfort food and kinship extended.

Trapped in snow globe of nostalgia,
Kresge Drug Store's magic orb, gazing
scenes imagined within, immersed.

Beneath the next tinsel-draped tree,
a child's haven of stick-sap and dreams mingling.

Face pressed to cardboard nativity,
wise men, cows, humble manger
and a solitary bulb, humble star,
celestial and warm guide tiny dream scenarios.


11.28.23/23 lines, free verse
12.26.23 minor edits, tighten, tweak, tastier words.

In this free-flowing verse, enjambment weaves the memories seamlessly, capturing the essence of November's nostalgia and the timeless magic of family traditions.

Prompt: “It is also November. The noons are more laconic and the sunsets sterner and Gibraltar lights make the village foreign. November always seems to me the Norway of the year.”
— Emily Dickinson

FORUM

The Bard's Hall Contest  (13+) APRIL: Flash Fiction, 500 word limit. #981150 by StephBee - House Targaryen

Never entered…too busy…forgot…public now…

Impetus:
Its post leaves down, raked to curb, before fresh snowfall. days are shorter. Night seems to go on and on that I don’t feel tempted to stay up later. And when I lie in bed, I’m transported, I recall the sweet holiday confections emanating late from her oven to my anticipant nose, sense heightened by sounds of decorations going up, presents wrapped, soft holiday music, quiet truce between parents. Family had more time to wind down, be in the moment, be family, repose, with no current distractions but free time to commune, eat comfort food, enjoy extended family at thanksgiving, timeless traditions, as if trapped in an old Kresge Drug Store snow globe, the kind I stared into for long periods of time, imagined myself inside, or would crawl under the freshly tinseled tree, risk sticky sap, face in front of a cheap nativity of fold out cardboard and glued on wise men, cows, sheep, Mary, Joseph, baby in manger and the one light bulb protruding from the hole in display serving as that star, illuminating tiny dream scenes.

How to put all that in free poem, structured, with enjambment was difficult. How to edit this?

I’ll take another run at this someday.

12.01.23