The Poetry of A November Sky by Louise Gallagher Under a November sky slate grey streaked with the promise of snows yet to fly, the river flows gun metal weary. The trees bend branches naked to the wind that swoops down in streams of icy persistence from Arctic realms. And still,nature dances in hoar frost glory kissing barren limbs with shimmering finery that sparkle like glittery stars cast upon a velvety blanket of leaf strewn earth covered in autumn hues of red and gold and auburn. And deep beneath the silent earth summer flowers sleep dreaming of spring blossoms. Beauty flows through every season.