long stemmed dandelions
bouncing in the meadow
I didn’t notice the bees at first
the weight of each one
pulling down each stem
and letting go
one after another
a field of springing keys
played without sound
I heard a melody
rise from the field—
a death song
a feeling spread through me like water
soundless as dawn
the bees played flower
after flower
going extinct
still singing
POST UPDATE: Sisyphus reader Quantum Kreilkamp has set this poem to music and the author requested the link be shared.
This is a gorgeous, powerful poem, Gene. It breaks my heart.
Thank you for your lovely comment, Judie. And thank you for reading.
Thanks, Gene, for helping me to see what I’ve only been looking at.
You lend my procrastination about weeding some fine cred with this one, Gene. I LIKE the dandelions and buttercups, and my bees seem to appreciate them too, but like Tom, I will see the rhythm in those bouncing blooms a bit differently now. Gracias!
I love this poem, Gene! Fills my heart with joyous delight and deep grief all at once✨💖💫
Gene, I’m having a great time putting this poem to music. can’t wait to share it w/you.
love the images you have created in my mind’s eye
seeing the kalimba of weeds
thank you for allowing the magic to flow on through and out to the rest of us
like a Blakean song, this poem throws the doors of consciousness wide open to innocent joy and deep mourning – poems like this one which conjure these complex feelings in such clear, lyrical and powerful language are exactly why we need great poetry more than ever – keep them coming
Thanks, Steve, for you response to my poem. To hear from someone with your sensibility respond to my work makes me feel understood. Luckily we have Sisyphus to showcase such dialogue.