December (poem)

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    A poem I wrote on a melancholy day in mid-December of 2013.


    The leaves have fallen on the ground,

    Scattered everywhere.

    It's the season that is so renowned

    For the hibernating bear.


    Soon we will start to see more snow

    Flying in the air.

    A cold reminder yet still somehow

    More scenic is Times Square.


    No more will the sun shine down

    With all it's golden splendor.

    Indoors will move the sidewalk clown

    And the market vendor.


    The birds have left upon their paths

    We wish that we could fly.

    But we just sit and take warm baths

    And bake our holiday pie.


    The drab grey slush and pure white flakes

    Will soon be all you see.

    The weather tries to raise the stakes

    But I think we all agree


    That with the cold and biting breeze

    Comes a certain pleasure.

    We can sit back, relax at ease

    And the scene, from inside, we treasure.


    So when the season starts in full,

    Just try to remember

    That while you're wearing heavy wool

    It won't always be December.