Extraterrestrial.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Misfit. Unfit. Extraterrestrial.

Submitted: October 07, 2012

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Submitted: October 07, 2012

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Crop circles in the cotton field; 
Intricate lies woven into white downy sheets... 
Aliens amass from the lowest stalk; 
Golden seed, not quite ivory 
Not quite ebony; 
A misfit; unfit... 
Befuddled; 
Human, 
But foreign, nonetheless; 

Golden-bronze seed; 
Belonging to the cotton, 
The only mother that has ever dared call it a son; 
The stifling wind, the only father it has ever known. 

Bastard seed of the cotton field; 
Snatched away from his mother's downy, cotton bosom... 
Not quite ebony, 
Not quite ivory; 
Pitied and accepted, 
Yet rejected just the same; 

Alien, golden-bronze seed 
Weaving crop circles into the cotton field; 
Complex patterns, mysteriously etched into the space 
Where he had lain; 
Misfit; unfit... 
Not quite foreign, 
But neither human; 

Extraterrestrial, 
Child of the cotton field.


© Copyright 2017 Jennifer Brighton. All rights reserved.

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