My Heart Is Cold

Not a good day, health wise. Not a lot left. Still a lot of paying work to do.

I am babysitting two girls who just made up a poem over their pizza:

My heart is cold
Because I left it in the refrigerator
I'll heat it up
And eat it later.

I would like to claim it for my own, but that is not the poem of the day. The NaPoWriMo prompt is a lune. I hate lunes.

Little Ice Age
In the warm
Years, the wheat grew tall.
So did shadows.

Image: I have no idea where it came from or if it's even real. I liked the stars.