Poetry

My First November

 

 

Five is clocking

The sun is setting

The day is failing

Night comes swiftly

 

The wing is howling

The leaves are falling

Green, brown, yellow

Off branches they go

 

Everyone in warm coats

Scarves secure on necks

For the new born cold

In art filled autumn

Leaf credit

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Oh don't leave without leaving some words from you to me

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