poetry & coinage

So the country waited awhile to share cents with me, but then it started in with a dime.  Think that is a nice precedent.  And while today's poem specifically states 'November', I think the sentiment works for any wintery month.

Never mind

      that guests no longer come unannounced
      or that the photo album contains pictures
of much younger people than we remember being

     never mind that swallows etch Sanskrit
              on the wrinkled sky

                 it's November
     and the present is emptying its wine
                into our glasses

     never mind that we're not touching now

because our shadows are holding hands
         in the dark behind our backs

"Never Mind" by Denver Butson, from Illegible Address.