Vancouver in November

Written years ago, I decided to dig this out and polish it a little.

November usually turns Vancouverites bitter, but I always felt that there were profound moments of beauty in the month. This is my best attempt at capturing the moments I now seem to crave most.

...enjoy...



Fall falls from the heights that held the summer.
Ripened leaves descend,
exhausted
toward the earth,

carried

by the exhales of the wind
to join their fallen comrades,

mâchéd

to the ground by the kiss,
of last nights rain.

The air is

sweet with,

their final fragrance

The air is

filled with,

earth.

Far in the ancient cedars
fog lingers,
as clouds sweep
the forests,

Prompting:

"Pay still silent attention
do not miss
the grace,
the whispers,
the serenity"

Their slow
silent bodies
the final remanence
of last night's storm.

Pseudo rain
still falls
in the forest.

Ripe
drops descend
heavily
prompted by the

stir

of ancient crowns.

Dew

clings,

to the earth.
While

a purgatory
stillness prevails above,

the final clouds

peel

from the mountains
bidding valleys adieu,
with accidental elegance.

From the edge of the horizon
new clouds
rush,
eager to exhale the burden
in their bosoms:

rain accumulated
from long
adventures across
the Pacific.

From Hawaii they hail,
to Vancouver they are destined.

Arrival inspiring such relief
that
their

bodies
break
beginning

the long exhale
that wreaks havoc on

city
streets.

The wind,

gallivants.

Shaking all that will rattle,
rattling all that will shake,

playfully playing
with forgotten artifacts
strewn about:

Papers pirouette,

and promenade.

Trash cans tumble.
Rubbish rolls.
Leaves levitate.

Wind, whispers,
( only because it cannot shout):

"We have arrived! We have arrived!"

The heavens give
wholly

until,

roads resemble rivers
sidewalks are streams
windows waterfalls

and heated homes
are the only havens of comfort.

Yet,
there are moments
scattered
among dewy days,

when the heavens break
displaying azure blue
that reminds,

"Its always sunny above the clouds."

The city
stirs with life,
as
autumn sunsets
bathe
her in

Buttermilk
then,
Honey
then,
Gold.

Yes,
sweet sun stains the city
exaggerating juxtaposition of,

modern manifestations:

architecture
against
rich rolling nature.

Onlookers,

stop.

transfixed by the city.
gold leafed from tip to toe.
Gleaming.

But, in the morning,
the mountains make
a rebuttal
to the city's sunset seductions.

From miles away,
every
branch and needle
shines and shimmers
texturizing
the volume of forgotten valleys.

Inviting all...

saunters
scurriers
and strollers:

"Pay attention,
to the beauty in bloom,
the showcase,
the depth,
of
surrounding scenery
too often
uncelebrated
and unnoticed."