Poetry: “Picked Cotton” by Rita H. Jones


Who in the world PICKED the cotton pickin COTTON

     I rode by the road today

     Amazed with my sight again

     I just had to take a second glance

     Where did it go ………….. what

The white fluffy cotton that flowed down from the pod

But never hitting the ground

WAIT    WAIT    I looked around and there it was

Laying on the ground like fresh snow

     Moving and flinching at a stand-still


     It was stuck

     Many roots sticking up out of the soil held it captivated

Was it PICKED by hands of yesterday or machines of today

Standing there with cold and touchy memories of the past


Never a forgotten foundation for the FUTURE

     NO MORE    no more cotton

     All the cotton pickin COTTON

     Has been


Jones is a resident of Creeds and a member of Little Piney Grove Baptist Church. Her poem is © 2016 G.O.D. PRODUCTION.

Used By Pungo Publishing Co., LLC, with the author’s permission.


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