Something about November makes me sad in a not-so-awful way. It's the long-goodbye light that casts everything— from water to mood — in a tender, ending sad.

The garden is forgotten

in November’s thin light. Shadows yawn

sad and I am surrounded by things we

covet, yet forget:

sunflowers, a tomato’s full curve, the snap

of carrots — wilted from a rigored season.

Now tomatoes lie bruised, sunflowers quiet

and leggy. Even the crabgrass is worn with

effort. Something inside me swells in

this frail autumn glow. I don’t know if

it is fatigue or forever.

— From Forecast, a word-art collaboration featuring poems by Drew Myron and interpretive paintings by Tracy Weil. Special Edition Exhibition Book and prints are available at www.weilworks.com/forecast.