Late November holds tight to autumn;
canal pathways filled with people
carnival-bright beneath blue skies,
heavy, fruited branches splashed crimson –
bright on black branches.
Bridges and sky and people still reflect
in mirror-smooth canal water
and the sun, still gold
on golden wind-twirled leaves;
not yet the white-bright sun of winter.
But sunset comes early
sets downtown buildings aflame
and darkness coats more
and more hours of the day.
Autumn will release its hold;
Winter comes on apace.