November's Chill

down past the river
on humble orchard road
there's a gravel path
of many stories told
back in late september
of 1989
there's one untold legend
of a farmer and his wife
in the pale musty sunset
amongst the coloured leaves
is an old abandoned cabin
surrounded by scarecrow trees
the weeds and grass
grow wild, keeping the cabin up
the roof is now fallen in
the frame barely standing up
outside of the boarded up door
birds speak of the rumour
the squirrals tell jokes
in tasteless sense of humour

i never knew that man that night
perhaps i never will
i never will forget the wife
buried up upon that hill
the grass that hides the rage
of a sportman's twelve gauge
passion deterred, detoured
like november's chill
passion deterred, detoured
like november's chill

© 2001 S. S. Hudson, STRTJCKT Publishing