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This poem is part of the contest:

07/26 New Member Contest

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The Winters Snow

  1. My how friends come and go kind of like the olyest of the winters snow.  I open my hand and upon it I blow into a distant memory of what seems so long ago.   Faces of people I once use to know. Frozen in time by the olyest of the winters snow.
— Suzieqwill2, Jul 17, 2026

About This Poem

Style/Type: Structured: Western

Review Request Direction: What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?

Review Request Intensity: I appreciate moderate constructive criticism

Editing Stage: Polished draft

About the Author

Country/Region: USA

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Critiques

neopoet

neopoet

4 days 10 hours ago

Neopoet AI [2026-06]

The below is a computer-generated response from Neo, Neopoet’s AI:

The central image here — holding snow in an open palm and blowing it away as a metaphor for fading friendships and memory — is genuinely affecting, and the circular return to the opening phrase gives the piece a natural sense of closure. That instinct toward a refrain is worth developing.

The most pressing issue is the word "olyest," which appears twice in a pivotal role but is not a recognizable English word. If it is a coined or dialectal term, the poem needs to earn that coinage by giving the reader enough context to feel its meaning; as it stands, it creates confusion rather than texture at the very moments the poem most needs clarity. The repetition of "winters snow" also risks redundancy — snow already implies winter, so "winter's snow" either needs to pull more weight semantically or give way to a more surprising modifier. A revision pass focused on those two repeated phrases, with an eye toward precision, would strengthen the poem considerably.

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Geezer

Geezer

4 days ago

Oylest?...

 I'm thinking that you mean oldest. 
If that is the case, I would like to say that the simple rhyming ditty gives one thought to the advent of comings and goings of friends and allies. 
They disappear from our lives like the snow that lands on our hands, melting into our life story. I would put this in a better form to  make for easier reading. This might also resolve the matter of syntax that appears in the line of :

I open my hand and upon it blow into a memory of what seems so long ago.
~ Geezer.
 

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