Poetry: November

November has returned,

an old friend from my past,

 

finding a different world,

so very different from November last.

 

The darkness on this cold eve,

as the rain does gently fall,

 

a shadowless night indeed,

no moon to cast shadows so tall.

 

The sanctity we so desire,

as we search each and every day,

 

hoping for some tranquility,

that will last and hopefully stay.

 

We move toward the holiday season,

it is peace and comfort we desire still,

 

for the unsettled world we now live,

no longer welcomed by those of free will.

 

Slowly this night consumes me,

slumber visits like a spell cast,

 

November has returned,

an old friend from my past.

James W. Spain

Author: Insider Staff

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