November Mists

November mists descend as a widow’s shawl

The Summer long gone, hidden

Tossing aside the fallen leaves

Snapping branches heavy with sorrow

Easing flocks into the sky, departing

Securing the waters to prevent their return

This is how Winter arrives uninvited, unannounced

Emerging from beyond this gloom

From Gaia’s last deep, clearing breath

And a possible sparkling future

It is welcomed in an unwelcoming way

Postponed only by our own interventions

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