There is a bee on a stick
and that stick is in a cup
and that cup is full of rocks
in the morning
And those rocks hold up a stem
of a dying succulent
which drops leaves onto my window pane’s
adornment
And behind the window frame
is an artisan’s domain,
the light reveals a spider’s web
so silky
And there’s me in my socks
sipping from my coffee cup
within a world
behind a web
beside a bee
Written this morning. (10/18/22) I had some time and thought I should write a poem, but I didn’t know what to write about, so this happened. Think maybe I should clean my window? Nah.
comedy, everyday life, nature, rhyming, short
Dinosaur Fondue Poetry 