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When November goes away

And it is cold at night
When you wake up in the morning and hear,
“Snowball fight!”
The fresh cold breeze
Oh, how it feels so good
The wind blowing in the trees
And the squirrels running up the wood
Night coming early
Dawn coming late
Ice on my door,
Frost by the gate
The fire burning
But the birds no longer sing
The earth will rest now,
Until next spring.






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