November
is my old friend
whos hands I shake
coldly she always behaves
she comes in a mourning time
the moon cries in vain
November
she whispers goodnight
to the trees
navigates her way down south
with the golden butterflies
running for their lives
kisses me gently
I only see her once a year
the bitterness
in her heart
stays with me
all winter long
calling my name
I shiver