Monday, November 27, 2017

A cold November day

It is a cold November day.
The bare trees are cracking like an old man’s bones.
Flakes of snow drift lazily up, and down, and sideways
Floating on breezes, though gentle, yet burn the skin.
Occasional shafts of dim sunlight lance between fast moving clouds
Streaming across a pale sky that only hints of blue.
The dog looks up at me, wondering.
And I agree.
Yes, it is time to go back inside.

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