…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

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