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Poem inspired by bees and their function in nature. |
| There is a theme in life Of things turning into other things. A heavy hair curtain hung over a hive Nothing to distil the darkness Or pollinate the radiant air outside Only the wind’s word and the secret buzzing Of bees, gold – black – gold, moving Between two worlds, rushing baggage From here to another realm. Lines of thought looping through memory, A gift that imagines its own joy, A second chance: blue dawn revisited With silver vision, lumps of pain like wax In honey comb turned to pure, sweet gold. |