November Hangs On

November hangs on To a blanket made of cold and grey To the bare branches of trees clinging to the sky for the last precious moments of warm sunlight Counting every minute of the shortened days November hangs on To being surrounded by memories on its long dark nights The way our empty hands grasp on to the comfort of our covers November hangs on to every word uttered from a lovers lips Something to shake off the frost on our hearts when facing late Autumn's changing winds November hangs on through every crowded street and storefront decorated with glee Tis the happiest time for some but the loneliest time for many