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.