Monday, June 7, 2010

honeybees on a ride

they do not like the vibrations of the truck.
they do not like ani
her angry voice howling
the injustices of the world.
nor do they like my chemical romance
the beating of the drums
like the footsteps of many men
or black bears too near the hive.
she does not like the voice of npr
or the classical epics
with the grating of the strings
the fierce whistle of the winds
they crying out of an aria.
she does not like it.
she huddles with her own
wild murmuring and waits
until she can be safe
in her darkness
with her own quiet voice
of tens
of thousands of little souls.

c. 2010

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