Nov. 9th, 2011

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

in mild november every tree seems red

these maples blazing with unhidden fires

in briefest glory as the day expires

while winter is to come with heavy tread

but not just yet and while clouds overhead

cluster like doom the birds sit on the wires

and do not worry the winds may be liars

while changing seasons don't occasion dread

meanwhile we wonder at the changing scene

at who will be our neighbours and how plain

the day shall be with no leaves on the lawn

but nothing matters while the grass is green

and we have shelter from the chilling rain

with guarantee of sleep until the dawn

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fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
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