Written on a very lackluster summer’s day.
Some more weather based poetry.
It is a bit early to contemplate signs of spring, but I could not help myself. (And the weather in my parts has been rather weird, with cold and mild weather taking turns.)
The sort of weather that leaves a deep impression on you, that needs to be expressed.
Well, we are technically in a winter month now, though that does not always mean snow on the first of December.
A little poem about the strange people called “climate change deniers”.
A moody bit of poetry for today, very Sunday in November.