Written on a dreary day in mid December.
Written when this was definitely the case. Here’s hoping there is snow on the ground today.
That’s what the forecast said (and yes that is in Celsius).
The state of November.
One of the dreadful things about November is this.
November truly is the cruelest month, I don’t care what anyone else says.
A fitting poem for this month.
It’s a short one, but what is more suitable to the first of this month?
Another poem based on observation.
I don’t like thunderstorms much, but they inspire.