Dear cotton fields...

Au revoir, before I die...

Photo by Karl Wiggers on Unsplash

Road drive by the field side.
Field dotted with cotton balls.
Still they are, standing tall.
A slightest blow can make it fall.
A soft touch on the face,
makes the heart full of grace.
Wish to run in these fields,
But do not intend to make them fall,
The flowers and leaves.
To watch it from is awfully teasing,
Those dotted structure are pearls;
They’re pleasing.
They touch the horizon.
Harmonizing with the sky.
From roadside, watch it from far.
The cotton fields are stretching
miles afar.
Au revoir dear pearly cotton balls.
Let’s meet again once, while
once we live, once we die.

~Arushi Sahu