fill it with nature
by jmritz

Comment by tnun:
gettin' there.

small lady
by jmritz

Comment by tnun:
a small triumph.

"November"
by jmritz

Comment by posthumous:
This photo is a poem of shadows.

I marked this photo but ran out of poems.

"November"
by jmritz

Comment by tnun:
November does that
leans forward
squints
and paces sparely

"November"
by jmritz

Comment by rooum:
Dragged from dirt
From November

mugsy
by jmritz

Comment by bvy:
Perfect.

"November"
by jmritz

Comment by mlu:
The cold mornings
The dark nights
The sparseness of light.
Ever reminding me
of November's blight.

"November"
by jmritz

Comment by grahamgator:
November comes in darkly
Follow the path into the light
Emerge into the spring of your youth

"November"
by jmritz

Comment by primabarbara:
I can remember the time when his wife was alive. She used to be so vibrant and cheerful, her smile was the most catching of the whole town. Without her he seems to be fading away. Getting grey and inanimate. There are more bad than good days. He needs a rollator. Age can be like a limping friend who wants to steal that wheeled walker from you. Every month is like November

"November"
by jmritz

Comment by blindjustice:
November, a poem.

And with joy Grappos wept,
the age had come and gone
and the sequinned blouses had closed
the air more still, the hunch returned.

On golden shores,
the ageless bathed,
yet the glittered nights had ended
and the windows shuttered,
the air more still, the hunch returned.

As modernity approached
and characters alighted from memory,
like rats from a sinking ship,
the air more still, the hunch returned.