White Poem by derrick foster

The page laid bear in need of dressing. How pristine
and naked. A simple sheet can appear until it unites
with its spouse. I think of things like bleach Or
corneas so clear, clean. Hanging sheets blow in the
breeze. Flap. Flap. Flap. Across a field cotton grows.
the same of which the sheets are made. The neutral
blandness appears alert Waking everything. Snow used
to fall on this field. Fluffiness complementing the
rising cotton When it was on the ground. Those days
are in the past. All traces evaporated leaving life
awakened. Children play hide and seek With shadows on
those blank, clean fabrics Mother calls them home To
fill pages in need of a new face