November 22: An Autumn Poem for a Wintry Night, Tom Hennen, "Autumn Waiting"

Well, my peeps, I have a poem for you this evening.  There is a winter storm bearing down on the Upper Peninsula, but I am unwilling to let go of my hope that Thanksgiving will be snowless and warm.  I know, I know.  It's the U. P. of Michigan, and I live next to Lake Superior.  I might as well hope that someone will send me a check for ten million dollars and a round trip ticket to Rome for a private audience with Pope Francis.

Well, the poem is have is from a poet named Tom Hennen, and I found it in Garrison Keillor's anthology Good Poems:  American Places.

Saint Marty needs some sleep.

Autumn Waiting

Cold wind.
The day is waiting for winter
Without a sound.
Everything is waiting--
Broken-down cars in the dead weeds.
The weeds themselves.
Trees.
Even sunlight
Is in no hurry and stays
For a long time
On each cornstalk.
Blackbirds are silent
And sit in piles.
From a distance
They look like
Something
Spilled on the road.

A good poet for a cold night