It ends in rain,
November,
in fine rain,
in fine rain
and silence.
Where are the snows
of yesteryear,
asked Villon,
and where
are the snows of November?
The snows of November
water,
water in the ditches
and the puddles,
water in the unfrozen ground,
on the soaked dead grass
and fallen leaves
drenched
in the snows of November.
30.11.2025
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