Sonnet To An Accidental Parcel
Aftermath has traveled far in a white box,
the encapsulated darkness condensed inside,
an error made somewhere in the boondocks,
now silent echoes resound, reverberate beside.
Life transcends plans, even an afforded stitch,
corrosive days, or sweet nights; it might deliver
a truckload of surprise, or a bizarre twitch
floating on the waters of its capricious river.
And I wonder if bees know life can be sweet.
Though when a queen dies in agony they moan,
sentimental insects weep in hexagonal suite.
Still, their scouts hurry home to report a nectar zone.
They dance inside the hive in a circular pattern
While some people enjoy tea with honey at a tavern.
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The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
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Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
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