Clyde Watson

"November comes, and November goes. With the last red berries and the first white snows."

- Clyde Watson

"November comes and November goes, with the last red berries and the first white snows."

- Clyde Watson

"November comes, and November goes. With the last red berries and the first white snows. With night coming early and dawn coming late, and ice in the bucket and frost by the gate. The fires burn, and the kettles sing, and earth sinks to rest until next spring."

- Clyde Watson