Corn Crib

©2022-2025 Denis Naylor

Cotton Fields and Cars

When he stopped speaking

No one spoke

Silence surrounded us

Like cotton seeds in cotton bolls

            Here in a sunny white field.

The birded lies of misery

Swooped hungrily

With sharp black beaks

Tried to pluck the delicious

            Hard seeds of truth.

Then the sound

Of an unseen car

Swept by from the street

Left to right

            Through the open window.

I sat and leaned back

In a church with 10 men

In a 12 Step Meeting,

Feeling the silence

            Healing the whole room . . .

As the speeding car took

Every lonely soul along for a ride

To a place where the powerful

            Go to die

                        And the powerless

                        Go home in peace.


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