Here in November

Submitted by Hannah W. on Thu, 09/27/2012 - 23:30

How can I tell them about the cold?
Here, such a penchant for rain
we have,
and such an unhealthy love of snow
we have,
We have hopes
made of steel and icicles.

And it’s strange—

Hey, here’s something cold and gray:
night falling, snow falling, eyes falling
eyelids like a sagging roof,
and me like a crooked bend
in the highway.

And it’s strange—
But don’t you think it’s strange?

Oh, don’t wake me
from the cold and the snow and the rain.

Author's age when written


But I like-it-type-strange.

"eyelids like a sagging roof"

Great picture that paints!!

Maddi :D

Goodbye? Oh no, please. Can’t we just go back to page one and start all over again?” – Winnie The Pooh

Your poems always grab me from the first line, Hannah, and hold me until the end.

I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right. --The Book Thief

Dropping in on this dear site after a long, long absence, I noticed this and found it very resonant. "And me like a crooked bend
in the highway"--that's lovely.