Nuggets of November

               Nuggets   of November

I   peep   through  the  half  visible,

 Transparent   glass   shutters,

 besmeared  by  water  drops, 

the  perverted  gloom  gathers

like   pell mell   infecting walls   and  roofs,

Now  it is  November, partly raining,

Partly  the  thunderous   clouds  spark ,

 The  usual  calm  blue   hiding  behind,

 The  crackers  in the wet  soil  benumbed,

don’t  burst,  lie   idle on the ground,

much   to the  chagrin   of the   kids,

some  crackers slowly  catching 

  burst  half,   drop   helpless,

I   read,   behind  some  embers

  of     subdued    glow and   spark,

 there is  no   spark

 but   pretentitious   ire  or  cow down,

 or    corrugated  mood,

 behind   some ,   the  mourning, the

  dead   in the    coffin   iced,

 there  is  the warm   calculus  of

coffer , the  value of  mosaic

newly  constructed,

the  box  moves,  but   man

with  the  calculator  , refuses

stuck  to  the  tiled  floor,

looking  up  at the  vault,

 how  to  reach  IT.