Holly Bohto Poet I do not know?

Call Me In Your Seasons

Call me:

And I'll wait for the Winter.
You never left your bed.
Writing flaked out sessions.
Toppling frigid dread.

Call me:

And I'll wait for the Summer.
You never left your yard.
Writing  heated lessons.
Toppling being charred.

Call me:

And I'll wait for the Spring.
You never left your porch.
Writing muddied questions.
Toppling rains galore.

Call me:

And I'll wait for the Autumn.
You never left your couch.
Writing changed confessions.
Toppling sit in slouch.

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Thomas Hsi August 10, 2017 at 2:29 AM I really like how you structured your poem, it's very imaginative. I'm going to read more of your poetry, by the way! Holly Bohto April 1, 2018 at 4:52 AM Thank you.

James Inman January 15, 2017 at 2:37 AM Love the experimentalism in your writes. Your form could be classified as Free Verse in most of them. Holly Bohto April 1, 2018 at 4:52 AM Thank you.