November Day

I remember those minutes 

that stretched so long, 

a Nile of thoughts 

weaving around bends

and under overhanging boughs

back to when I was young 

and the world was white, 

and forward to when I walk to him, 

doe-eyed on my brother's arm, 

before being caught 

right now

in the eddying swirl of faces, 

a multitude of eyes 

looking heavenward,

or down, 

or into mine.

I had prayed, God,

 for an aurora

on that hillside, 

for the sun to gild us 

as we said farewell.

My mind still sees you there,

the flowers, the earth,

and at the last moment,

the beam of honey gold 

that shot down

burnishing us 

and setting us afire.

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