Late November arrives here as something worn out and harsh. The poem describes the month as coarse, chapped and brittle, words you'd normally use for dry skin or old bread, and then watches it crumble away. By the end, the landscape has lost its softness, and what's left is the earth itself, laid bare.
The last line is the sharpest image. "The earth's jaws" suggests the ground has turned into something almost animal, with bare edges like teeth showing once the leaves, grass and gentle weather are gone. That makes the ending feel a little threatening, as though winter is opening its mouth.
The speaker doesn't say how they feel outright, but the word choices suggest a mix of weariness and unease. There's no comfort or nostalgia for autumn here. The mood is cold, dry and stark, and the short haiku form fits that: it's spare, with nothing extra left to cover the bareness.