This Day: November 7, 2103
The wind blusters.
The clouds are gray.
I shiver in my coat,
yank on my hat,
wish I'd thought to bring a scarf.
The mittens I wear are mismatched
pink and white
and belong to one
(perhaps both)
of my daughters.
The dog,
I notice,
has chewed a hole
into one thumb.
Read more here
The clouds are gray.
I shiver in my coat,
yank on my hat,
wish I'd thought to bring a scarf.
The mittens I wear are mismatched
pink and white
and belong to one
(perhaps both)
of my daughters.
The dog,
I notice,
has chewed a hole
into one thumb.
Read more here
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