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A Bumblebee at the Garden My wife and daughter built a garden. They said to me, knowing my proclivity, "be careful. There is a fine netting around it, nearly invisible, do not walk into it." I almost did. A fat bumblebee wanted something inside. He could see through the netting, but couldn’t get in. Was he perturbed? I wanted no part of it. I am a carnivore. Yet but for him I would indeed have walked into it, the netting, and been enmeshed, and ruined the husbandry. Meat-eater, I was perturbed for both of us. Metaphor, metaphor, invisible, visible fence guarding reality, as if it were the Holy of Holies. Peace, bumblebee, peace. This summer we will eat, not knowing the hand that blesses, neither me, nor thee. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joe Gustin On Date: 2015-06-06 20:51:02
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
So beyond wow. You are lighting a newer path for poets like i to follow.. Bravo