Those cold nights in November,
when we would sit by the fire, and embers
would float around our heads,
leaving ashes on our threads,
later carried to our beds ---
And then there was December.
Holding on, those freezing nights
I'll never forget the way the lights
had a habit of hitting in just the right
frame to make your face look bright:
Your smile; what a sight.
But then there was this fight,
And my fears took off in flight.
Now I'm cold in November,
and freezing in December.
Without a candle to light.