Bee

Windows open,

flags unfurl merry

for the drone parachutist,

fever on wings.

Global-scented lines buzz

unsucked and sweet;

constant as carrier pigeons

in the Great War.

Pollen is everywhere;

impeccable flocked spring,

piled high and yellow

for the taking.

Accord awaits, honeyed,

barely breathed,

motionless with yearning―
little sins madden the sting.

tk/April 2014




R.A.D. Stainforth adds a little stingy-zing... 

*photo by Francesca Woodman