This winter is the pits. Where are the lovely sharp sunshiny frosty mornings? Must we suffer only rain, incessant, interminable, smothering all interest in going outside to enjoy a bracing walk. Crisp outlines of trees are nowhere to be seen ─ just misty, murky amorphous landscape, curtained intermittently by sweeping squalls. It isn’t even cold.
produces open-mouthed snores
from bored sufferer
My second attempt at a haibun for dVerse Haibun Monday, this time on prompt, writing to the photograph provided by Gabriella. Sorry about the surfeit of adjectives!