254/365: Bee

this bee died sitting on his ass 2

Last little precious life
winding itself down like a loose, soft spring,
your wings are tired.
It is the way of all bees.
The body is willing when the wings cannot,
and your hunger will consume you.

#365poems at Schmutzie.com

Five Star Friday's 255th Edition Is Brought to You By Ruth Ozeki

The Mortar Between the Bricks