Wishing on Cotton

July 23, 2017

White seagulls in flight

As if picking cotton in the night.

 

Frisking the breeze

Taunting the earth’s non-freeze.

 

My mind slithers slowly

Like a mollusk humping a hard rock.

 

Time stops

Eagles fly overhead

In the sky so high

That I cannot touch them

Only my imagination creates a memory

Of what I once knew.

 

Gone but not forgotten

Hanging on like cotton in the sky

Cotton of clouds drifting by

I let out a sigh

And move on

I cannot reach them today.

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