What is the late November doing
With the disturbance of the spring
And creatures of the summer heat,
And snowdrops writhing under feet
And hollyhocks that aim too high
Red into grey and tumble down
Late roses filled with early snow?
Thunder rolled by the rolling stars
Simulates triumphal cars
Deployed in constellated wars
Scorpion fights against the Sun
Until the Sun and Moon go down
Comets weep and Leonids fly
Hunt the heavens and the plains
Whirled in a vortex that shall bring
The world to that destructive fire
Which burns before the ice-cap reigns. 

Snow in Paris? What is November doing?

T.S. Eliot…

A snippet from East Coker.

Eliot, T. S.. The Complete Poems and Plays, 1909-1950. United States, Harcourt Brace, 1958. pg124,125