November By Mushera

In flights of fancy i see old Mushera cloaked in gray fogs of rain
And hear storm-water gurgling in the roadside drain
By the narrow Butter Road that winds up and down
Through the high undulating countryside above Millstreet Town
November by Mushera a cold and wet time of year
With the  calendar Winter to the high country near
As the flood is subsiding in the cold  gray dawn
The  salmon are swimming upriver to spawn
In Mushera valley in November in the dawning cold  and gray
The cattle in the farm sheds are bellowing for silage or hay
At least fourteen weeks until the first flowers of Spring
Until the nest building male songbirds do whistle and sing
Where old Mushera is cloaked in the fog rains of gray
Above the high country from here far away.