June Plums In November
Fighting against the despondency

That tends to emerge with all

It’s strange bleek aspects,

And cravings, and memories,

And forgotten yearnings.

Nothing abates the gloom

Like those yellow june plums

That ripen around that time

Early each November,

With the little sunlight left.

When the coldness tends

To increase the despair,

And a slow thawing sadness

Is warmed by the fruity aroma,

And sweetness that motivates.

These like many of the markers 

Flooding senses each season,

Improve the most frigid moods.

But rarely last until when

December comes to an end. 

Not long after the celebration 

Of the new year passes,

Prickly june plum seeds forgotten 

By January, to find new resolve

To alleviate the uncomfortable cold.

Only memories of juicy nectar 

Remain to fill the cold crevasses 

When the new winds blow about

Changing out old dispositions 

Even as the cold still lingers.

Ria 2017