A time of focusing,
first noticed when pushing
toward finals in college,
papers were due –
finding a seat in the library
a challenge even after midnight.
But it goes back way, way before
the academics set up shop in Paris.
Not only in the daily drain of the light –
I see it in the deer out back,
foraging with strict intent
as snow cover now all but inevitable,
November’s curtain, ready to fall.
(Poems from this recent run are collected here: Eulogy for November: a chapbook)