Poem of the Month for November 2019
My sorrow, when she’s here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;…
Robert Frost, My November Guest
I mark this year as epoch’s end ―
the loss of home of half a century,
the death of spouse (my dearest friend) ―
but in a season of accordancy,
to judge of gladness hap has sent
in my Septembers formerly.
And so I view hap’s instrument
as having chosen carefully
the best of times for her ascent
to that estate we call eternity.
― James Moose
Sacramento poet James M. Moose Jr. died last month, one day shy of his 96th birthday. His poem here on loss, written last year for an online poetry workshop I was conducting, captures the emotion of grief and the inevitability of change in life. I did not know him as well as I might have, and that, readers, is my loss.
James Lee Jobe
Davis Poet Laureate