The weather feathers slowly,
then it drives,
the honey bees,
from their well built hive.
Movement, that's natural with rhyme.
moments, forever cast in time.
The swaying, the humming of the swarm.
Forever living, while it still feels warm.
Pollinating for a desperate world,
forgetting all the lessons there to learn.
Buzzing bout the latest shiny things,
forgetting bout the summers birds,
all the songs they sing.
Then there comes the winter and the snow
The humming gone for one more year..............
lets hope it returns.