In November by Lisel Mueller

In November

Outside the house the wind is howling 

and the trees are creaking horribly. 

This is an old story 

with its old beginning, 

as I lay me down to sleep. 

But when I wake up, sunlight 

has taken over the room. 

You have already made the coffee 

and the radio brings us music 

from a confident age. In the paper 

bad news is set in distant places. 

Whatever was bound to happen 

in my story did not happen. 

But I know there are rules that cannot be broken. 

Perhaps a name was changed. 

A small mistake. Perhaps 

a woman I do not know 

is facing the day with the heavy heart 

that, by all rights, should have been mine.