Cool And Cloudy Coffee Muses.

Once again the sun hides it’s warming fire behind cloaking clouds. A chilled air moves lightly through the birdsong filled morning. Mourning doves coo while cardinals sing. By ones, and threes… and fives, gulls flying quietly above the trees. Crows complaining over the lack of an offering… Kawing their outrage at the lack of respect like a President scorned.

Seven days is all it’s been since the world fell apart. Each day full of lies and distractions. Truths that are alternative, principles that are unprincipled, morality of the schoolyard where bullies ruled the unprotected. What was once an office held always in respect, after eight long years of scorn from the right, is now causing great fear from the left. Hate fills the cold winters airways. The man who thinks he has the Midas touch cannot see the tarnish all over the fool’s gold gilt. Seven days… A war he declared… Not with terrorists, not with criminals but, a war with the press. Oh, but not the truthful press at Fox, just all the rest.