November Forest
Literary

November Poem

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.

~ Elizabeth Coatsworth

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1 Comment

  • Reply Caity November 6, 2011 at 7:58 am

    That is a beautiful poem. I love it! 🙂

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