Synopsis
The poems in The Tree of Life in November are “the creations of a man whose body said it needed rest before his spirit felt rest was necessary,” written in a period when death, like the snow that recurs in the collection, was “coming not yet coming.” Life, like the maple bark in 'The Tree of Life #8', was peeling, “to be shed not yet.” They are a record of 14 months in a life nearing completion. The poet admits to having no idea what completion means, in the context of a life, “but it's a meaning we'll all discover in the fullness of time."
The poems in The Tree of Life in November are poems of twilight, of the light fading in November. Luckily for poetry lovers, “this dusk has lasted all day tomorrow,” and will endure long after that.
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