Winter's Wrath
Autumn frosts my breath,
forming white contrails
of misty vapors,
that get snatched away
by a feisty breeze.
Color swiftly
diminishes,
as the wind strips
leaves from the trees.
And scarecrows
abandoned
in the fields:
suffer
Winter's
wrath.
Post Comments
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.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.