THE COTTON FIELD PART 2

IFY ARINZE

We have laboured apart in separates fields until chances saw us here together.
I remember how u eased in quietly, I was tilling away refusing or pretending not to notice you, thought I could work better that way there was no rules but labourers should work better and forget physical attractions. Thus I ploughed my way as u faced your own portion, ignoring each other.

But we could not help it! The pain of forced labour, the familiarity of two in a cotton field, the need to ease the harsh and hard days of toiling, we could at least talk in between work.
The glances I stole when u were too busy to notice, my helpless admiration of the cotton master in you.
The time we shared whenever we need a little rest.

We therefore made a little world of our own separate from the rest of the labourers in the cotton field, two can play like that. It’s evening now, the rest of the labourers of the cotton field have almost gone home for the day. Here I sit watching you gather your tools to walk the path home with me as we have always done. The thought is pricking my mind, the fear of tomorrow when I will have to miss you in this field. Soon time will take you away just the way it brought you my way, you and I don’t even know how far and how long it will. It might be forever damn! The days are sure to come when I will be left alone with mere memories and pains of your absence, I wonder how it will be.

Working here without a soothing relief of your voice, your warmth, your inspirations and all. So why not go home alone today without me. Leave here alone, let me remain till it’s done that I may watch the moon and kill this fear inside me. Let me ask the stars why, why things are like this, why there should be sad goodbyes, why time and chance can often be so cruel, just walk home and let me remain in this field all through the cold night. Let me paint the picture for the heavens to see, how miserable a lonely heart can be.

But if you insist, drop your machete come sit with me lets share those dreams of tomorrow and when the night finally falls we can do so much, we can roll on the soil of the cotton field that will tilled together. We can defeat the cold harmattan with the fire and flames of our emotions. Tomorrow we will make our jealous co-labourers more jealous when they will come so early to meet us under the tree dosing in eachother’s arms.

Handsome one, until your gone, lets make the best of the little time left. Work like we have never worked before it will leave millions of memories when harvest will come. With you far away from the cotton field no doubt you will keep the thought of us ever in your mind. As long as you are still here it will cotton field forever and when you are eventually gone always remember the joy, pain, love, tears, sorrow and happiness that comes with the cotton field.