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.

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(Poems from this recent run are collected here: Eulogy for November: a chapbook)