I love
sad Sundays
those days when (almost bored)
you look out the window
at the world that
curls up inside itself and
hides behind watery hair.
YOU ARE READING
The Sun Shone at Dawn
PoetryThe wind blows harder under many shades of grey. The sun shone at dawn. *** A collection of haikus, tankas, poems about nature, climate change, platonic love, and any other poems I feel like writing or translating to English.
45 | Sad Sundays
I love
sad Sundays
those days when (almost bored)
you look out the window
at the world that
curls up inside itself and
hides behind watery hair.
