One autumn, the weight of the world felt particularly heavy on my shoulders, so in an effort to take back one small inch of ground, I set out to make something beautiful in the kitchen. Though the colors spoke of spring more than November, I still hold this memory with my children close. From these cookies a poem was born. And the recipe follows below.
From Poems for Childhood: In November (yet to be released)
November Leaves
November trees were letting go
Their colors nearly through.
We brought our rolling pin and board
And knew just what to do.
Russet, ochre, tawny, umber
Every muted shade.
We rolled the dough beneath our hands
To see what could be made.
We pressed our little cutter down
And lifted it with care.
A little autumn leaf appeared
A cookie waiting there.
When all the cookies had been baked
And cooled enough to hold
We sprinkled dust across the tops
A sparkling fall of gold.
Beyond the glass, bare branches swayed
With just a leaf or two.
I chose the biggest from our tray
And ate November too.