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It’s a Difficult Month, November

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 It’s a difficult month, November,
Sometimes so still and so breathless,
With the silent air condensing at sunset,
With mists swirling in the hillside hollows,
Vapours drifting round the churchyard gravestones,
And you think the weather’s in for the week,
When on the next afternoon,
The wind howls around the eaves,
And red sailed clouds sail like galleons
Westwards down the Severn to the sea,
Until a wet leaved stillness returns,
With museum memory nights,
When the damp air stinks of smoke and coke,
And you choke on the chimneys when you breath,
While the blue slate roofs gleam in the moonlight –
It’s a difficult month, November;
It’s when you sit in the car on a Saturday,
And watch the raindrops drip on a hawthorn bush,
Listening to the football on the radio,
James Alexander Gordon,
A comforter at 5 o’clock,
As 3 o’clock optimism turns into yet another defeat,
And experience triumphs once more over the fragility of hope;
It’s a difficult month, November.

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Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/its-a-difficult-month-november/