Thursday, 14 November 2013



Cool breeze on my neck
quiets the whole blood.
Children squeal in joy,
or terror,
or anger.
Adults laughing, people quiet,
while cicadas moan in piercing cry.
Slow ripples of lifetimes carry the moments.
My wishes fizzle within the insects sizzle,
from the great giant willow.
"Don't fear the bee,"
I say to the child.
She looks at me with brown eyes and a smirk
as if to say,
how could I surrender this power
to draw my parents attention.
By a raised eyebrow I suggest,
you may be better off without that.
But the signal is too subtle
and her dad swats the bee.
Off to the hardware store to purchase
zappers of brilliant green
with wires that melt the yellow jacket
while legs flail
in furious helplessness.

Unfold yourself,
so we can read
what is written
in the private places.
"What, and lose my self importance?
Who would I be without it?"
A Bee!

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