Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
Now the creeping mists of autumn
soak with dew the morning grass,
and the pastel sunrise spreads
the coming winter’s message,
so you rise in massing chorus,
eager now to leave these skies,
heading south towards the sun
and I, alone, to face the freeze.
Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 05.03.22
Prompt: As per illustration.
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