Fruits of Cotton

Trees are cotton plants

cupping budding clouds,

ready to pluck

in the backbreaking August heat.

Beside me, on the front seat,

a burlap bag grows heavy.

Row by row

monotonous work week;

life grows woolen,

and I’m left with this itchy disposition

and a blanket-less night,

wondering how I got it wrong

when I nurtured everything right.

© 2022 | K.Hartless

16 comments

    • Thank you, Tom. This one…it’s too true. The cotton clouds came to me on my commute this morning, but the song definitely inspired a bit of the rest. Here’s to the hope that is the weekend delivers what it promises in the way of some time for relaxation and some good reads.

      Liked by 2 people

    • Yes, indeed. Thank you for commenting. 💜
      The mornings are restless for me, as if the day ahead is running a hamster wheel in my head, but my body would like more sleep.

      Like

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