Sonnett For The Eleventh Month Poem by TEZ WILL DONOVAN

Why are you such a cruel month, November?
Thirty days long, just one to remember
Thinking of those young men who marched away
In flickering news reels in Summer days
But so many to die in Winter’s mud
Not ones or two’s, but in death’s calling flood
And for those of us able to grow old
Must now endure this bitter season’s cold
Perhaps to die with dreams yet unfolded
Youthful ambitions still to be moulded?
But this month’s not all early festive lights
Blinking on frosty streets and bitter nights
Like an October bonfire’s warm embers
My love for you has grown, this November.