The bees know nothing of my anguish
to them, it does not exist
nor the crow
who yells at me in ambush
my pain? a mist.
on the dunes by the sea
I kick the sand into the face
of the blue sky
of me, the deep wind feels no trace
as I tumble by
I am but a bit of paper tossed
skittering over footprints lost
often caught in a tangle of reed
blown into the surf I melt
am freed
no one saw me no one
felt my fears
nor the bees nor the crow
but then…
I felt not theirs.