When you see this, post a poem on your journal.
November Cotton Flower
by Jean Toomer
Boll-weevil's coming, and the winter's cold
Made cotton-stalks look rusty, seasons old,
And cotton, scarce as any southern snow,
Was vanishing: the branch, so pinched and slow,
Failed in its function as the autumn rake;
Drouth fighting soil had cause the soil to take
All
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