I carry my words across continents
with their accidents, impermanence
bees feverish in the heat of their sting
do things so sweetly distant from pain
a bird cleans its beak on moss again
and I try not to scare them into flight
we're "ok;" alighting on what it takes
to make the planet spin another day
[Pic: MSU Horticultural Garden; I love this bed, which seems so effortless.]
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