November says its no again; the trees, Now tracery and silence, teach the eye Economy of sight. Gray disagrees
With blue, and wins infinitude of sky.
November says its no - but I say yes
To steady gray, to sternly somber mood
To issues that the summer didn't address
To meditation and to solitude.
Procrastination is the gaudy prince
Who underwrites his promises in gold.
But now I face the wind, refuse to wince
When truth insists that it at last be told.
November says its no; I say my yea
And welcome all it teaches me today.