The month of November

The month of November,
I’ve found,
Is just as good a month to die as any other.
Chilly white winds tease crisp fallen leaves,
And it’s not as sweltering as the summer.

Loved ones cry just as hard,
You see,
Wet spring rains won’t have them dashing for cover,
November comes with a kind of comfort,
Like a good coat in the winter.

For with issues of life and death,
These are the things that matter,
And by experience,
I’ve found,
I’d very much like to die in November.