November
November Verse and November Chorus
NOVEMBER
There’s a man who makes more lasting clothes than me – the undertaker….He comes to my door at night, in the first brief snow of November.
The old man of Garth died at sunset, says he.
That’s your business, says I.
No, but they want a shroud. They’ve searched Garth high and low and there’s no shroud for him.
I could have told him who was wrapped in that shroud.