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November
Grey November rain
Again
Gutters torrenting into
Black drains.
Half naked trees
Shivering in the wind
That has brought
The northern chill
To damp doorsteps.
Lights glow behind sealed windows
And the midday bells
Of Our Lady of Lourdes
Are yet to strike
Damp, damp lawns
Saturated with the incessant
Downpours.
Sodden woollen coats
Reek of their first owners
Unnatural hunching of
Shoulders and backs.
Wooden fences warped
With water
Twisting and rotting prematurely
As if in pain
Rubbish canoeing in gutters
Tennis courts empty
Sports fields deserted
Cold streets, cold faces
Cold November
Wet November
Long November
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