and still
i feel
guilty
for the
bumble-bee
jarred
thirty years
past
and it still
makes
me
sad
that I
trapped it
and
left it
forgot it
to die
and the
glass
enhanced
buzzing
like
tinnitus
haunts me
and the
slowing down
dying
recurs
in my
dreams
and the
slowing down
dying
is me
in my
dreams
in a
brick
tower
like a
lighthouse
no moisture
no air
just a
spiralling
staircase
and music
and breathless
and flightless
and hopeless

and that
humble
bee
still troubles
me
and I
wish
every time
that the
memory
returns
that I
could
undo that
moment
and
twist
and
release
and
observe
and
relax