Isn't it enough you are out in this November you are walking down the street Isn't it enough to note the patterning of branches without leaves sky pressed between skyscrapers to grapes of indigo Isn't it enough to smell the spices down by the docks juice into an apple touch the bark of sycamores peeling to lime green You can hear the bells of noon through lunch-hour footsteps You can walk out walk out into November

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