“The landscape sleeps in mist from morn till noon;
John Clare, ‘The Shepherd’s Calendar: November’.
And, if the sun looks through, ’tis with a face
Beamless and pale and round, as if the moon,
When done the journey of her nightly race,
Had found him sleeping, and supplied his place…”
Goodbye November – were it not for photos I might forget your better moments when it did not rain and lockdown2 meant the end of even the smallest crumbs of social pleasures. Still I’ve loved your misty days and especially this evening walk with my daughter when the sunset brought some colour to your pale cheeks.
For the Photo a Day Challenge @ CitySonnets: Goodbye November
PoetryPix 
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