Something In B
If I were a bee, I’d find a stalk
near some Mozart, and as someone went light
on the pedal, I’d alight
on a petal
and I would never leave it
so long as that music pealed,
chords tying the air
to a sweetness beyond honey–
okay, maybe not beyond honey–
chords tying air
to a sweetness that stills buzz,
and, as the knees of that bee that was me
bent, in time,
so too would the flowers
list-
en.
*********************
A bee poem of sorts for Magaly’s prompt on Real Toads–Magaly brings up a few types of bee, but I don’t think I’ll choose. Bee photograph is mine, below another favorite; all rights reserved.
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