November

No sun, no moon
No morn, no noon
No dawn, no dusk, no proper time of day
No sky, no earthly view
No distance looking blue

No road, no street
No t'other side the way
No end to any row
No indication where the Crescents go

No top to any steeple
No recognitions of familiar people
No courtesies for showing 'em
No knowing 'em

No mail no post
No news from any foreign coast
No park, no ring, no afternoon gentility
No company, no nobility

No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease
No comfortable feel in any member
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds
November!

Poem by Thomas Hood
Photographs from top 
Grijs
Toast
Plumo
Neest