|One of our neighborhood turkeys. Click to enlarge. |
by Clyde Watson
November comes and November goes.
With the last red berries and the first white snows.
With night coming early and dawn coming late.
And ice in the bucket and frost on the gate.
The fires burn and the kettles sing.
The earth sinks to rest until next spring.
|Wishing you all another year filled with things to be thankful for!|