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Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Bee Presents His Ass






 


It's a rush morning;
Everything in a blur;
Time to go walking.



 



 My garden of weeds
Flourishes from my front porch
Looking very green.





 


A flat bed drives by
Leaving a small hurricane
And wind shaken leaves.



 



On this sky blue day,
On this rooster crowing morn,
Even shadows dance.



 



 Suddenly three trees
Have changed from green to yellow--
Seasonal twinkling.









Rolling waves of green
End at the edge of the woods.
Then brown takes over.








The smells are changing--
PLant decay and faint flowers
Carried in the breeze.






Head in the aster
Sucking up its sweet nectar
Bee presents its ass.





































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