Dawn
Autumn
November
Almost winter
I wear a sweater
There is frost on the ground
Birds are gone, there is less sound
Than one hears in other seasons
The morning is more quiet, I have found,
As I leave the house on my morning rounds
Dusk
Autumn
November
Almost winter
At this time of year
My mind is less scattered
I am more focused and clear
And even though the nights are long
I don't think of the season as drear --
I contemplate the cosmos' sacred song
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