Winter is here, skipped fall and went right for the kill. Killed my petunia(s). Or at least threatened them. They’re still periwinkle out my window. Out my window is also a green gum drop evergreen up to my sternum. Blighty rose bushes in front. In the middle is a space heater, cold floors and a brown recluse or hobo that made one bloody hole in the skin of my hip, like the one that scarred into an ugly mole behind my knee on the opposite side. Schizophrenic weather depresses me. I need commitment and stability from my weather. If it’s going to storm, storm. If it’s going to shine, and so forth.