Cotton Poem by Jim Boone

When I was just a tot
There was a cotton gin
In town, but it shut down
Before I made it through
High school, yet I remember
It and the vibrations it left.

Before it went away, Cotton
Was just about all you saw on
Farmland around here and now
I don't know where it's growin'.

That old cotton gin was
Huffin' and puffin' night
And day at crop time and
Fields with rows and rows
Of those harsh plants with
A soft white surprise were
Filled with farmers and
Day laborers: Men, women
And kids in the hot unmerciful
Texas sun, stooped to pick
The cotton that pricked their
Hands, dragging that long
Heavy sack as sweat pored
Into unfocused and weary eyes.

Cotton pickers had no more to give
Or love to inspire; just images of
Weary living without reaction
And feelings in traction beyond the
Cotton fields of Collin County
And throughout the South.


1956