Friday, May 25, 2007

The Cotton Field (May 25, 2007)

The thorns flicker in the wind
Up the path darting in and over
My hand brushes the warm cotton
Sprouting from the brown sticks
Fields infinitely line the horizon
With a sun shining brightly I walk
Forever in my mind surrounded
By the spores of life and poison
The blossoms are out but life is not inI retreat to find a dream more alive

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