November is coming
Maybe this year I will welcome it
With parted lips
Like an old lover
Waiting for a long overdue kiss

Something stirs in thicket dark
where tangled reaching limbs of trees are stark
against sinking sunlight bleeding red
and hasten thee quickly off to bed.

There lays a dove with eyes that weep
and voice that sings it's mourning air
of loves and sunlight fading fair
of winter's coming cold in evening fright
and all once green turned deathly white:

"Oh these passing days of little sleep
of autumn's chills from my resting keep
unceasing tension building still
between firey limbs and the snowy hill
and my heart with ice shall surely fill."

I'm sorry I had to leave you, brother.
Brother, I'm sorry I was not by your side, that November evening when mother took her last breath.
Brother, I'm sorry I was not with you by the side of fathers bed, that April night, when cancer carried him away.
Brother, I'm sorry I was not present to enjoy the beautiful moment you made me an uncle, that sunny day in June.
Brother, I'm sorry I could not be there to give you a hug
when she left you that cold December noon.
Brother, I'm sorry I was somewhere else, and let you mourne alone, that dark January morning
when the fever took your little baby boy.
Brother, I'm sorry I was not there to stop you
that foggy February morning you decided to take to an end.

But brother, ever since you were 6, and I 10
I've been waiting for you here
Here to welcome mother, the day she slept in
Here to greet father, when cancer delivered him
Here to take care of your little boy
Here to give you that hug you need, and to tell you I know, because I've been in your heart, all the way