"laminacae" poems
Some stalks escape the shears.
Children gather inflorescence
into paintbrushes
weary of so much slaughter.
They kneel into the aroma,
mistaken for praying.
Bees bend one last flower
sepal to stem, sated
and heavy. Far from home.
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC