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
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
