When sky put rain down on flowers,
It wombs the shower of rain-water;
Until the next day the warm air blows,
And shakes the stems and
It tosses petals against wind and
Sunlight turns water to thick honey,
so sweet with fragranced money.
And the bees make the movie
in the juicy center of the flowery body. In one morning In the month of July Hunger dies.
Black bees, yellow bees and
Honey bees gather on the soft cave of honey- to say goodbye,
Hot in the hive, salute to the spreadable butter and knife.
July 2017 NY