Cotton Field

Cotton Field

I walk the gravel path
Along the field ready for harvest
The morning breeze
Catches the flags
In a steady percussion
I hear the pipes
As the tall black percheron horse
Comes into view
Pulling its flag draped wagon.

I think of the old king
On his funeral bier
A country man, a veteran of foreign wars
Whose long reign
Kept the warring factions in an uneasy peace
Knowing that at his death
His kingdom would soon divide itself
Into civil and uncivil war.

I watch as the princes of your house
Bring you to your final resting place
And I know
That for the rest of my life
I will never see a field
In full and glorious cotton
And not think of you.

10 thoughts on “Cotton Field

  1. I love how the tragedy of a family divided against itself coupled with the tension of waiting for the old man’s death is paralleled by the cotton field ripe and ready for harvest. Beautiful writing.

  2. …what a lovely offering… soothing and very relaxing to read… your ending lines:
    ‘That for the rest of my life… I will never see a field… In full and glorious cotton… And not think of you.’ really sing though i felt a li’l touch of sadness within… great write… smiles…

  3. I can almost hear the footsteps ~ you maintain the steady pace throughout and make this a most enjoyable read. As Claudia says, it’s both moving and gripping. You kept my attention ~ it would make a wonderful Remembrance Day poem.

  4. wow this is really good kathleen…first you let us see the field so clear…then you let us feel it, the way you feel it when you look at it….the old man i feel sad for him a bit…the and feel his passing as well…

  5. oh wow kathleen…what a moving and gripping write…love how this builds with you walking the gravel path, taking us with you, enveloping us with what you see and hear and then the gorgeous closure..

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