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Famous Short November Poems. Short November Poetry by Famous Poets

Famous Short November Poems. Short November Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best November short poems

See also: Best Famous Short Poems | Short Member Poems | Best Short Member Poems | Top 100 Famous Short Poems

 
by Mother Goose

Thirty Days Hath September


Thirty days hath September,
April, June, and November;
February has twenty-eight alone,
All the rest have thirty-one,
Excepting leap-year, that's the time
When February's days are twenty-nine.


by Emily Dickinson

How happy I was if I could forget

 How happy I was if I could forget
To remember how sad I am
Would be an easy adversity
But the recollecting of Bloom

Keeps making November difficult
Till I who was almost bold
Lose my way like a little Child
And perish of the cold.


by Dorothy Parker

Autumn Valentine

 In May my heart was breaking-
Oh, wide the wound, and deep!
And bitter it beat at waking,
And sore it split in sleep.

And when it came November,
I sought my heart, and sighed,
"Poor thing, do you remember?"
"What heart was that?" it cried.


by Emily Dickinson

The Day grew small surrounded tight

 The Day grew small, surrounded tight
By early, stooping Night --
The Afternoon in Evening deep
Its Yellow shortness dropt --
The Winds went out their martial ways
The Leaves obtained excuse --
November hung his Granite Hat
Upon a nail of Plush --


by Thomas Hood

November

 No sun - no moon! 
No morn - no noon - 
No dawn - no dusk - no proper time of day. 
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease, 
No comfortable feel in any member - 
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, 
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds! - 
November!


by Gwendolyn Brooks

The Crazy Woman

 I shall not sing a May song.
A May song should be gay.
I'll wait until November
And sing a song of gray.

I'll wait until November
That is the time for me.
I'll go out in the frosty dark
And sing most terribly.

And all the little people
Will stare at me and say,
"That is the Crazy Woman
Who would not sing in May."


by William Carlos (WCW) Williams

Light Hearted William

 Light hearted William twirled 
his November moustaches 
and, half dressed, looked
from the bedroom window
upon the spring weather. 
Heigh-ya! sighed he gaily 
leaning out to see 
up and down the street 
where a heavy sunlight 
lay beyond some blue shadows. 

Into the room he drew 
his head again and laughed
to himself quietly 
twirling his green moustaches.


by Weldon Kees

1926

 The porchlight coming on again,
Early November, the dead leaves
Raked in piles, the wicker swing
Creaking. Across the lots
A phonograph is playing Ja-Da.

An orange moon. I see the lives
Of neighbors, mapped and marred
Like all the wars ahead, and R.
Insane, B. with his throat cut,
Fifteen years from now, in Omaha.

I did not know them then.
My airedale scratches at the door.
And I am back from seeing Milton Sills
And Doris Kenyon. Twelve years old.
The porchlight coming on again.