November
By Don Iannone













November arrives,
as lustful as bare wind on slackened sails,
Determined and forceful,
as only Scorpio can be, and always
secretive and magical in her poison sting,
The circles she spins...not beginnings of anything,
and not usually the end of anything, but
a time to be thankful for everything,
Also a time to celebrate pilgrimages, and
adventures to other worlds, that lie beyond
usual boundaries, and beyond
those normal parts of ourselves, that we wear
like costume jewelry to the theatre,
Her passionate skies wide open, and yield,
as only a woman can do,
ensnaring all she receives,
Her hypnotic smile intoxicates, and befalls
the unsuspecting seeker of her dark secrets,
November is here...I hear her spinning near.