Gray November
Gray November evening
the slush squishes underfoot
and the rain pelts the back
of your neck as you trod
the dusky streets alone
in a cold unrelenting wind
bare trees are shivering
dancing like skeletons
under the hidden silver
sliver of a very pale moon
ravens are dripping
from the wires overhead
and from somewhere
locked in a desperate battle
comes the screeching of cats.
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