Back when I was in grad school, I took a class on the poetry of different climates - as in different temperatures (not a political thing or a religious thing or anything like that) - and it was some of the most fascinating learning I've ever experienced.
During the semester, we compared the poetry of native Alaskans to that of people from the Amazon rainforest. It came as a total surprise, and yet really isn't surprising at all, to discover that climate dramatically informs poetry style. The poems of the native Alaskans were sparse; the words were short, the lines were short, the stanzas were short. The topics were bleak.
The poetry from the Amazon rainforest was abundant. The words were luscious and the lines and stanzas stretched on for miles. The topics were warm and made me feel good.
The weather has turned quite cold, and feels crueler so for snapping on the tail of the tease of spring. You see that? I've attempted a rainforest sentence there, and it just falls flat. There's no denying what cold weather does to the written word.
Thanks for reading. Stay warm.