poetry · story

Busy Bee…

You have always been a busy bee,
I heard my Auntie say,
under the Olive Tree one day.

She was a woman that never left
the square she made back in ’63.
A few acres is all she needed.
I guess….

My Auntie lived life in a matchbox
tucked away in the plots she read
the worlds she created by pen
writings between floating walls
waves of unsettled thoughts.

An eccentric woman, a writer
dancing to her own beat
chained home by her mind.

I relate to her chains
except I’m trapped by my legs
and stopped by pain….

Mystery after mystery she wrote
poem after poem I write

They say I’m a lot like my Auntie
Both–busy bees…. of the mind.

care for a reading

One thought on “Busy Bee…

  1. Something tells me you are harvesting in your poetry what your Auntie sowed in those plots that were her writings. Listening to you read this was a real pleasure because it helped direct the flow of your thoughts. Great writing!


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