Saturday, April 30, 2005
A bee ...
They buzzed about me ... I must have been four?
The bee tree was full of yellow flowers.
One stung me. On my thumb.
The bees buzzed louder. I watched them.
The bee tree swayed in the summer breeze.
Late. Warm. Golden. Young.
Someone called from inside the house.
I don't know, too long ago.
I sat on a bench with a toothbrush, aged three, chirping radio in the background.
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
The bee tree was full of yellow flowers.
One stung me. On my thumb.
The bees buzzed louder. I watched them.
The bee tree swayed in the summer breeze.
Late. Warm. Golden. Young.
Someone called from inside the house.
I don't know, too long ago.
I sat on a bench with a toothbrush, aged three, chirping radio in the background.
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
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