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

    1. 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

      1. It is annoying but also comforting, kinda like knowing the odds of winning the lottery are 1 in 292.2 million and it’s the same odds that you’d get it all right.

        Like

      2. That’s very true, I think it’s because human beings can’t deal with uncertainty. We like to know what’s going to happen.

        Like

    1. 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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