NOVEMBER WIND

• November lifts the skirts of the trees
• snuffles and wheezes his way through the streets
• kicking the litter before him;
• snatching each quivering leaf he peels
• off tier upon shrivelling tier till the trees
• stand naked before him.


• Scuffing up dust he drearily sneaks
• down back alleys, whistles offkey
• at steamed up windows, drums and squeals
• in telephone wires, makes hinges scream,
• then skulks in the suburbs, kicking the leaves
• along the gutter before him.

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