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11.08.2021

November Came

If love had a smell, I think it would be fall. I smelled it in the air today. Blowing freely in the leaves. 

If love had a feel, it would no doubt be warm. Like a fireplace on a sometimes chilly day.

November came. The gray clouds slung low against the sky. Though you never came or ever left, it was yet again another fall. 

The fields before me tell the story. Broken earth, blackened soil. November comes every year. It comes every year. The contrast of November - one of thanksgiving with just a hint of sorrow. 

November came again. The gray clouds slung low against the sky. Though you never came or ever left. it was yet again another fall.

If love had a season, it would most certainly be fall.  A sometimes quiet goodbye. A silent slumber. 

November will say goodbye again only to return one day. I though simply cannot ever seem to bid it fully away.

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