After the time of the bees
It was after the time of the bees
she bloomed alone, a single rose
among thorns; scented and white, I see
her petals, pink-edged in the dawn light
of those final days.
I could have wings, and buzz, a bit, at
least – or hum. My shorts are yellow too
and I have a stripy shirt. I like
honey, and flowers, and I dream of meadows,
despite my being a man.
So I landed on your petals, and
sipped your dew. Scented with longing, you
helped me sleep, and we dreamed together
alone, of times of bees and roses,
until your petals fell.
Posted on dVerse Poets, open link night.