To Passing Through

November comes without my seeing
Like daybreak without the sun
Like staring at blank pages
After all the words have gone

November comes without my seeing
Swift as a midnight thief
Stealing what was stolen long before
By the ever-deceiving Time

November comes without my seeing
Subtle as a falling yellow leaf
From branches of the sycamores
In autumn we both sleep

November comes without my seeing
The smell of slumber on our skin
To trace the outlines of a blazing hell
For how cruel November has been

November comes without my seeing
Or was I too blind to see?
In the lingering sadness of a music box
We shall dance in eternity

November comes without my seeing
But will I ever bid goodbye?
Tomorrow we wake to another month
And find the same in time

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