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Saturday, November 01, 2008

NOVEMBER COMES




November comes

And November goes,

With the last red berries

And the first white snows.



With night coming early,

And dawn coming late,

And ice in the bucket

And frost by the gate.



The fires burn

And the kettles sing,

And earth sinks to rest

Until next spring.



~Clyde Watson

1 comment :

  1. Peggy,

    Thanks for stopping by; I think you are waaaaay ahead of me in the technical stuff! I was not familiar with this poem, but I love it!

    Janet

    PS, I see we read the same blogs

    ReplyDelete

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