The Bees
they’re // gone
she said // we were
wading knee deep
in wildflowers, blooming // tall
grasses swaying // silly wind
a lively emerald sea // studded
bursts of color // life preservers
Fruit Loops // maybe,
swirling // in a bowl of jade milk
the fragrance on my nose // squirrels scurrying
phantom leaves // the leaves
leave // they // always [ ]
on the grass, like corpses
everything is gray // gray, why did i
open // my eyes hurt, why
is everything becoming [ ] ?
she knows, though
she knows, because i see // ghosts
in her eyes // reflections of
creatures // flying
the creatures // who once flew
the creatures // flew
angels // real // but
heaven is almost
imperceptible // behind
the smoke
she said // we were
wading knee deep
in wildflowers, blooming // tall
grasses swaying // silly wind
a lively emerald sea // studded
bursts of color // life preservers
Fruit Loops // maybe,
swirling // in a bowl of jade milk
the fragrance on my nose // squirrels scurrying
phantom leaves // the leaves
leave // they // always [ ]
on the grass, like corpses
everything is gray // gray, why did i
open // my eyes hurt, why
is everything becoming [ ] ?
she knows, though
she knows, because i see // ghosts
in her eyes // reflections of
creatures // flying
the creatures // who once flew
the creatures // flew
angels // real // but
heaven is almost
imperceptible // behind
the smoke
Natasha Bredle is a young (but fortunately not starving) artist based in Ohio. She writes about what she thinks about, which is really too much for her poor brain. You can find her work in Aster Lit, The Aurora Journal, and Second Chance Lit, to name a few.