Thinking today of the bees clustered in their hive
encircling their precious queen,
beneath the tarp and some snow,
dining on their honey,
beating their tiny wings for warmth,
awaiting the idea of a thing called spring.
encircling their precious queen,
beneath the tarp and some snow,
dining on their honey,
beating their tiny wings for warmth,
awaiting the idea of a thing called spring.
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