I like the grey and woody way
November leaves a filigree of trees
stripped and spare
untidy tatters at their feet
Let it go
I like the grey and weary way
November hunkers down
to stubble in exhausted fields
Give it a rest
Spring is so insistent
Summer is so full of itself
Fall tries to feed everyone
but not November
November says
Give it a rest
Make soup
with what’s left
from the harvest
Find a good book and light a fire
It’s almost dark
—Elizabeth Harmatys Park, Burlington
