A Winter Night in November.

The wind whistles an eerie tune
as the trees shiver beneath the moon.

Luna shines her pale silver light
to accompany the weary through the night.

The road is bare of travellers on foot,
the air is silent and all is mute.

Long shadows are cast on a deserted street,
absent the patter of human feet.

A little dog barks and supresses a quiver,
things unknown give him a shiver.

Rain falls as the dark sky sobs
as humans rest from their daily jobs.

Still the wind howls as he sings his tune.
Dark clouds now cover the silver moon.

The world is resting as if all were dead,
sound asleep in a warm, cosy bed.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I was in the Army for 15 years. Can't under-rate a good bed bed.
"The world is resting as if all were dead,
sound asleep in a warm, cosy bed."
My grandchildren want to go camping. I will take them dear Marie. I enjoyed the story and the calmness of the words. Thank you dear friend for sharing the amazing poetry and your thoughts.
Coyote

[Marie]

I so agree, there is nothing like a nice, warm, cosy bed, dear John.
You are so good to take your beloved grandchildren camping. They are so very lucky to have a wonderful Grandpa, bless them.
Thank you for reading the poem and for your too kind words, my dear friend.
Enjoy a wonderful time camping.
Take very good care, keep safe and stay well and enjoy...

[Pryde Foltz]

I think may have captured the weather around where I am. Very cold and foreboding. Only bearable in a warm home and reading poetry like yours that makes me so grateful. Loved this write.

[Soren]

This poem has particular meaning to me, and that I have pictured myself and have actively been in such a cold, dark streets, abandoned by all, but the wind. It has a particularly cold and eerie feeling to it, masterfully pinned it speaks of loneliness.