In the November Woods

“In the November Woods,” Friend, Nov. 1987, 17

In the November Woods

When I was walking in the woods one

cold November day,

I couldn’t see the little chipmunks or the

squirrels at play.

The trees were bare. The stream was ice.

I didn’t hear a sound

Except for my own footsteps thumping

on the ground.

I felt so lonely on the path that I sat

down on a stone.

Then I heard a sparrow call and knew

that I was not alone.

Illustrated by Doug Roy