but petunias hang on, confident
against Halloween mums and purple kale.
The sun low and bright, illuminates
browning cattails and faded phragmites
skirting Swampscott’s few remaining
wetland ponds.
The sea gleams incandescent and untroubled—
our dwindling shoreline not yet cobbled
with granite stones and cracked shells
typically jettisoned by storm tides
this time of year.
The climate crisis masquerades
as a balmy November, lulls us
into euphoria.
Even the trees seem to relish
this temperate twist,
some still clutching
their leaves, while the maple, poplar, oak
proudly display naked limbs
like late afternoon walkers
in summery tee’s, bare arms
swaying or waving to neighbors.
We loll on the beach or porches
long after street lights switch on,
knowing how wrong this is.
Savoring it anyway.
—
Laurie Rosen is a lifelong New Englander. Her poetry has appeared in Gyroscope Review, Zig Zag Lit Mag, Oddball Magazine, The Inquisitive Eater: New School Food, One Art, Please See Me and elsewhere. This poem won first place in poetry at the 2023 Marblehead, MA Festival of the Arts.
