Monday, November 1, 2010


"November comes and November goes,
with the last red berries and the first
white snows.
With night coming early, and dawn coming
late, and ice in the bucket and frost on
my gate.
The fires burn and the kettles sing, and
earth sinks to rest until next spring."
~Elizabeth Coatsworth~

1 comment:

Deann said...

I've always liked that poem!