This November Night by Anna Betts

Fall, falling-fallen
Blow, blew-blowing
Kisses, wind, leaves,
Pieces of ordinary
Caught, hanging at odd angles
On abandoned, broken- neglect
A naked dry cold earth shivers in this empty night
It seems as though even the darkness has decided to warm itself elsewhere
Through cracked windows, torn dangling blinds
Life peeks in briefly, trying to catch a glimpse of what was once there
Who lived inside these walls?
Yellowed, covered with dust now
Who climbed these stairs now quiet, daily?
Arms loaded with the stuff ordinary creates
Where did they go?
Life demands, I want to answer
To shout back about its roar
Yet my voice becomes swallowed by this night in November.

Anna Betts was born and raised in St. Louis, Missouri. She was and still is, quiet, shy and introverted. She discovered her talent for writing early, beginning with a diary and a few short stories, poetry came a bit later. She completed the standard requirements of childhood, which included education. It was in high school where the dream to become a playwright was born. She first majored in theatre then changed to journalism, graduating from Webster University. She then followed the usual path of adulthood, marriage and children. Until recently she worked in the customer service field and is currently writing full time. She has two completed poetry collections, an untitled collection of short stories, and one day hopes to finish her science fiction novel. As with most writers she dreams to be published, more importantly to be heard.

Bay Laurel  /  Volume 2, Issue 2  /  Summer 2013