…and the bees so loud,
they are stereophonic,
more real than any buzzing
I’ve ever heard – so beautiful
bouncing in sunlight searching
among young petals sopped in morning dew
this hazy morning – the line of the
stone on the ground so familiar
traces arbitrary curves
meant for now
the warmth in the air
is a room I enter
when I breathe and
throw windows open
you are the
blue echo, the day before,
a glimpse through a picket,
once enchanted
… long before any dawn
Chagall 2018
