for a moment of joy or moments no one pays for, i give myself a ‘jornal’. this makes me rich. try it.

the bee and the flower (a cherita)

the bee and the flower

(short story in verse)


dawn again and still walled-in

no matter… the sun invades my bareness


in the wrinkled shade

a ruckus of leaves



could it be the wind

riffling nests sagging

on a day just hatched?


then the stillness

swift wings…


on the edge of dreams

not a songbird but a bee

dark on my  lids…

all I see as it circles

probing the scented air


then soft as breath

alights on a blossom


i blink

the bee sinks into

the flower’s pulsing center

like lips half-opened…

as petals strain to widen


and quiver on the beetle’s

deepening kisses


a colorless breeze pulls me back to the stillness

the blank walls of waiting



an ekphratic poem based

on a photo of a bee feasting on a dragon fruit flower lv 07/27/20 hh 07/27/20








July 31, 2020 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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