There is nothing green, more or less, about winter; nor more or less black and white. The black of these blue mountains shadow down our yellow valley winter (summer, spring and fall.) The red dusk and dawn prophecy more or less tells the weather of our each new day a hope winter (summer, spring and … Continue reading The Green of Winter is Gray
Chilly as after-this reception— Cold as a whenever shoulder— Frosty as forget-it’s smile— Frigid with never embraces— Glacial as if.
Winter is here, but it isn’t on the Cape, hot and clear seventy-two with patches of sun, no snow, the seagulls from Seattle have moved in and settled to share the festivities of krill with wayward penguins sunbathing on the beach. Winter is here; but not on the Cape of Horn, forties and fifties with … Continue reading Winter is Here
Canute stood on the shore and drew a line in the sand The tide rolled in and ole Canute could not stand and stay dry, so he stepped away and said "O pride of men will make men dead." Old DjT took his magic marker and drew (o, so proud) hurricane lines a lot darker … Continue reading Dorian goes This Way
Spring has fuddled off into mountains bleared with late April blizzard. Prompted and brought to you by "Vague"