Dearth Of Bees - Poem by Oskar Hansen
Spring, and pretty flowers have opened up, even those
that pretend they are not in a loving disposition.
Not many bees around anymore because of chemicals
farmers spray on crops many have gone metro and lost
interest, fly low over still water so they can admire their
flying skill, or sit on the sunny wall of my house full of
self admiration; some hang languidly around a honey jar.
The few that still take interest in beautiful flowers are
exhausted and dropp dead long before the day is over.
Pretty flowers close petals over moist carpel and hope
for a better luck tomorrow.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You