Monday, November 1, 2021

It Was November

 

It was November

the month of crimson sunsets,

parting birds,

deep, sad, hymns of the sea,

passionate wind-songs in the pines.


Anne Shirley By The Ocean
James Hill
Sullivan Gallery Collection


Anne roamed through the pineland

alleys in the park, and as she said,

let the great sweeping wind

blow the fog out of her soul.

Anne was not wont 

to be troubled with soul fog.




 An excerpt from the book,
"Anne Of The Island"
(1915)
By Lucy Maude Montgomery




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