Indigent hands collecting
shards discarded
from other lives
to make a bonfire
Wafting aroma of
peanuts warming
from the heat of a
mud pot of
simmering coals
Grandmother evening
ambling along
hiding the naughty sun
as he runs snubbed
from cloud to cloud
The warm rivers of
human lives
flowing eagerly on the roads
back towards their sources
Homes preparing
hot meals,warm couches
and fireplaces of love
anticipating the cold hands
arriving soon
Its the terminal dusk
of my sweet November
till tireless time
runs another full course
of a year !
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