Almost without thought...
my fingers...
walk and twirl...
around the circle of white...
tonight...
the moon has our attention...
it is a strange branded pink..
masked over...the white boll...
and demands...
my full attention...
as I spread...
the cotton apart...
and there..
at the center....
beneath the white...
is the seed...
a southern pearl......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I never saw so much beauty in a cotton boll before..in fact, I've only seen one once or twice. A pearl of a poem within this cotton boll..southern pearl..nice