The bee was forbidden from kissing flowers.

Out of the hive, she found her free will. Though
her wings fluttered under heavy turbulence.

Amazed, by the liberty that flowers held in petals, all around
She began to work on arousing subjects, in the playground.

Irises, roses, fuchsias and sunflowers.
Purple, red, pink and yellow- for endless hours.

Her mouth met many lips, sensing negative charges
She finally understood that natural energy was harmless.

Satiated, by her existential discoveries in The Garden
She returned to the tall trees to receive her pardon.

But along the path home she was surrounded.
The colours melted and mixed into grey and brown.

Unable to control the velocity to self-discovery,
Wary droplets of perfume sprayed in cries.
It was then she found her guise,
Judged by those who told lies,
Reached into her abdomen and prised,
No fail-safe to catch her from the skies.

And yes, it feels like I’m falling apart
trying to hold everything together

"where the night clouds ebb and flow like a tide"

the clouds roar their
thunder, balance
against the sky like a
set of scales
while the rain,
heavy and dreadful,
soaks the hot ground turning
the trickling stream back into
a buoyant wave chattering
to rock and silver leaf
of summer’s blossoming
dream.

He should have been innocent at ten
Out from his mother's den
Not like a rogue cub that's bitten
His furry experiment, a kitten
How can he be so rotten
For he purchased a ball of cotton
It's paws bracing its last amen
From a malls pet store then
To hell rides, a mortal sin
He rode that bus on the chin
With a boxed ball at his arm
That little ball of fur meant no harm
Scratching the whim of the boy
His pet was making such a noise
All those rider's eyes cast on him
Red faced and on a limb
He covered the boxes vents
So no noise to him made sense
Taking the ball of furs' breath away
How can his head be in a cloud
The devil speaking loud
As the frantic meows began to stop
It's tongue flop, flop, flop
Frozen in transit, as his kitten soon lay
It's ice floating  in his shallow  bay
Dark was the boys discovery
A lifetime of no recovery
Remembering  those pinks be crying
Trashing about and dying
That little ball of fur sitting still
Such a death, is this bitter pill
For the young boy fell off from this branch
Unforgiving of the kitten's trance


Logan Robertson

7/20/2019