fading away of an already forgotten past. . .
Sweet sorrow of realization,
A season of loss, and of death in golden embers. . .
So may we remember the loss of November.
A cold pale reflection, of a new day to come. . .
Sweet beauty of realization,
A season of hope, and life in satin embers. . .
So may we remember the hope of December.
November - An ending
December - The begining
From golden, to satin, Rememb'rence remains,
Within the burning embers of a twelve season soul. . .
For each new day we'll make a new change.
-Rebecca Suzanne Zimmerman<<-Back to Poetry Index