EIEIO Poetry Style Inventor: Carol Louise Moon
Every Ozarkian November, when the first cold rains from the north pour out across the land, Instantly sweeping away the easy, quiet warmth of autumn- wild winds blow down the colors of the hills. Each pelting sheet of wetness slamming my windows, Indicates a new season approaches- a season of joint-gripping misery, a callous wintriness sneaking incredulously into my bones. Odious elements! You have snatched away the benevolence of the sun!
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.