November Mists

November mists descend as a widow’s shawl

The Summer long gone, hidden

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Tossing aside the fallen leaves

Snapping branches heavy with sorrow

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Easing flocks into the sky, departing

Securing the waters to prevent their return

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This is how Winter arrives uninvited, unannounced

Emerging from beyond this gloom

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From Gaia’s last deep, clearing breath

And a possible sparkling future

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It is welcomed in an unwelcoming way

Postponed only by our own interventions

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