At Novembers End, Poem by Minnie Gehrig

It is quiet here,
as fall lies down to her death,
gently as the last remaining leaves,
fall and kiss the cold ground,

and winter whispers the frost across the windows
late at night or early in the morning,
but allows father sun to smile ever so coldly in the windy afternoons,

come my love, lay beside me now,
as we hibernate, through winters cold and silent solitude
let us gaze out the window,
and make love like adolescents,
and hold me close,
until Novembers final breathing ends.