November Steals

November has wrapped itself around me,
chilly shades of burnt orange and rust.
The death of autumn clings to my feet.
I wade through the piles of yesterday,
laying on the road before me.
How will I ever find my tomorrow
in the rotting leaves of a memory?
December holds false hope
with its beauty of a frost pattern
that promises to redecorate my world
in sapphire and crystals.
Maybe in the glittering jewels,
I'll find the part of me that November stole,
the caress of you living in my soul.

~ ~ ~ ~
It's a rainy yukky day and I can't find beauty in the dampness of rotting leaves.