October leaves with howls and growls,
She rattles the Holly, she bows the Birch
And chills the walls of the old shepherd's church.
The Fieldfare huddle in the green of the Yew
To feast with the Redwings, and Mistles too.
The plough has flooded, the ditches spilled,
The yard is mudddied but the barns are filled.
In the gloom of the dawn the white owl prowls
And November comes with more howls and growls.
Words and pictures by Artist and Druid © 2023 unless otherwise indicated.
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