Hi! My name is Kerri McCaffrey!
I live in a quaint cottage in the woods of Chester, NJ. It is magical here–at night, the moon coats the spruce with blue light. Coyotes howl and yap (or do they yawp?). Here is what they sounded just recently from out in the clearing (turn up your volume).
I am a parent, a 5th grade teacher and a poet. May my writings taste like sweet tangerines when the rest of the world seems like toast.
Look up, hope high–and welcome to ThePoetsEyes!
A Poem for you–from me!
(c) 2007, Kerri McCaffrey, Use by Permission Only
November skies are gray and wide—
Callous winds rip apart the forest line
and invade the peace of sheltering pine.
Why, just last month there was ripened juice!
But now, a cup of mead—dirty brown— and not so sweet.
It’s late, late fall…
The clouds are ghostly—a thick and heavy pall.
The last leaves cling like a fallen hiker’s desperate fingers.
The air is no longer crisp but biting and cuts one’s cheek.
Deadened now are some trees, standing naked—exposed and meek—
Huddling silhouettes of shame, they have lost their leafy fame.
November is an albino coyote howling in the stark stillness, lame.