The hills are lonely when November comes
and chilly wind blows brittle leaves around
The berry grounds have lost their crimson hue
and sometimes there is frost upon the ground

The hills are lonely when November comes
in darkened afternoons, without a sound
For daylight wanes so quickly at this time
and soon the land with winter will be bound

The hills are lonely when November comes
and life seems to retire from off the land
Just me, the wind, the hills, and just a thought
about the transformation near at hand

The hills are lonely when November comes
with solstice looming in December's days
When snow and ice will cover up the land
and man retreats to warmer fireside ways

But I who am a child of the woods
will walk along the trails around the hills
And stop to boil the kettle for my tea
and drink of it and nature 'till I'm filled

But still a lonely feeling does abound
and floats across the country like a dream
It will persist and lay its heavy hand
until when April offers hope of green.


Submitted By: wayne taylor