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The sun came out for a moment today and, while I am fully aware that November has hardly begun, I couldn’t help but picture ice dripping on a late-April afternoon.
Outside, it was miserable and rainy: A cold day in November. I held the photo against the lamp On a dark day in November. It was old, blurry and grainy, But enough to make me remember.
Blood was drawn sometime this month a few years not too long ago
I've always been a little biased about the seasons Fall seems to have always been my favorite I guess because I was born in November In the midst of falling leaves And changing color Of cool and bitter air
A cool November night: A fire blazes inside
tears fall from my eyes like leaves from the trees in november - 11/15/1995 3:18am - kenneth p rougeau jr
Endless tunnels going where? Voicemails left on my dead phone Burning through November air Tired eyes and windswept hair Hazy buildings, moonlit stone Endless tunnels going where?
Surrounded by my brothers And yet I am alone. We grew together, weather storms And cuddled amongst parched leaves. We are strewn across the fields
The numbness is pervasive like smoke. It is fast moving silk. Sensual. Smooth. And I chase memories. Ones I'm not sure I'd like to catch.
I check my calendar,then I check it again! Mid November has found it's way in! Between cramming for 3 exams and making an awesome presentation,
Just feel the cool breeze blowing gently all around, and listen to the warm-colored leaves scatter gently across the ground
some days we are both ghosts,for we see unlike trees.the earth falls asleepand still I spin the globeblue and grey-greenflickers of light and shadowlike a stargazer trappedin life.
What I’m Thankful For When asked to speak, I figured, hey! This will be easy. As I began to think of what to say, I grew slightly queasy.
It's a Wednesday in November And I'm struggling to keep my eyes open I must look a mess My eyes are droopy And my hair is unbrushed I'll admit, I didn't try at all this morning
You’ve listened to stories of Hallows Eve a night of scares and sweets The story you haven’t heard (some may think it’s quite absurd)
Between ice cold lemonade and hot cocoa, I am human, While bundling up due to the breeze, I think thoughts such as these.