november
november midges the sunshine’s minutes
as red the leaves fall their winded ways
black the black comes back
and lordy me but look at the rain
pooled in reflections of waving trees
and birdies plunging in distain
thoughts snooze inside the window’s
sofa sinks beneath the lids
of eyes that wait a little longer
before the secret garden’s gate
is rattled open by the wind
and the midges lead the shaded way
make up your mind day i say
oh i say what oh tally oh
you really are an in-between
what november has started
december will finish in pallor’s
sparkling fallen snow
and then the year will turn
in its many happy returns
for the candle has burned
awfully low
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