November skies

November skies, so soft and gray, A quiet hush at close of day. The clouds drift low, like whispered dreams, In silver threads, in misty streams. The amber light, a fading song, Lingers wistful, but not for long. With gentle grace, the sun dips low, And earth prepares for winter’s snow. Bare branches reach in twilight’s glow, Embracing dusk’s enchanting show. A hush that holds a tender chill, As night descends, serene and still. In shades of slate, the heavens lie, An endless sea, November’s sky. So calm, so vast, a velvet dome— It feels like silence, it feels like home.