Number Forty Seven, November 22nd, 2012

November late and lonely
When days are getting dark
So early and my folded fingers
Will not move
Someone's made a fire
Somewhere down the block
Smoke hangs in the air
And I hang on to you

This porch is my fortress
Where all my ghosts appear
To lead me down the foggy rows
Of gentle misery
But I don't cloud your face
I keep it crystal clear
Clear behind the glass
And frozen in it's frame

Oh… let the winter come now
Heart never will be warm now
Only but for the one now
Who's gone away

November late and lonely
She lays me down to sleep
I focus on the night wind
And rhyme it with your name
Empty as a dresser
Empty as a drawer
How your traces whisper
A late November sound