november

i have never seen
the moon so bright,
illuminating the moors,
bathing each ditch and curve
of the landscape
in it's soft silvery light.

i have never heard
the wind howl so loud,
that it seemed as though
the atmosphere
was crying out
in pain and in pity.

i have never watched
the crisp golden leaves
give themselves up so easily.
and leave once again the
wise, ancient bark
naked and self concious.

i have never felt
the fog slowly creeping in
enveloping and devouring,
so that i could only peer
to the end of my nose,
giving me shivers.