November

 Now November has brought the rain, the endless rain that rolls into night from day. 

Unlike the English rain, there is no smell in the air. No lingering dampness.

Inside I am cozy, nestled on the couch with 'the Swan thieves' and an earl grey

I walk through the fishing town, bundled in my jacket.

I smell the salty sea and hear the gulls searching for something

My hands are gloved and my socks are thick so I do not yet feel the cold

The cold is coming but for now I can manage

I walk through the fishing town where Josephine Rose waits patiently

Her grand structure once poised on water now dry and flaking