November

Another old poem; this one is loaded with a bit of old history in it (I have horrible Novembers, really), but I suppose that's why I like it.

November

Strides in

Calm and cool

Clear and clean

and tricks you

with its charms.

Then, with a snap,

Cold and vicious

It steals all

warmth and

good spirits;

Lingers,

smug

and taunting

Before strutting

triumphantly away.

The End

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