Porthole

Dreary day

Ridvan

Dreary day. Dangerously depressed. Didn't get out of bed before noon. Too much coffee since is keeping me vertical.

It's raining. This would usually enervate me. I love storms but the morning's overcast just drained me and this drip-drip with a bit of a breeze doesn't qualify as a storm.

I will write my poem, hopefully a flash fantasy. If I do I'll post them here.

Poem: "April 23: a poem that contains an argument [48]" 
Flash: "White Hat (白帽 Bái mào) [45] (298w)" 

A happier time in a place where redbud bloomed:

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