Neverendingness
He cracks open the window, lets in as much January as he thinks he can handle. A few stray flakes drift in off the outside sill despite the still-dark predawn stillness. He watches them melt on the desktop, imagines how the room would have filled up the night before, when the wind howled up the side of the hill and the snow fell so heavily that each flake bore the weight of the world.
winter's prisoner
imagination stifled
crushed under new snow
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Go Dog Go Café
Haibun Wednesday
~ problematics ~
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