November Morning

Gold and rust coloured trees stand against grey clouds

The sun taunts me with its warm rays of light

I can see the steam rising up from my coffee,
how quickly it cools

The quiet solitude of the morning

Just the silhouettes of the birds in the sky to keep me company

A lone fly zips by,
the last until Spring

There’s a crisp coldness in the air

Winter is on its way

I take a deep breath
and my lungs fill with the crisp Autumn air


So, that is my first real attempt at a poem in what feels like a gazillion years.  I hope you like it.


One thought on “November Morning

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