April Anthology 2018: Quiet (04/17)

My head a-buzz with stinging bees;

Gold-and-shadow striped living and dying…

So quiet I miss them when they are gone,

So silent and hollow,

Still.

I want the silence.

I want the buzz and glare to die,

Leave room enough to hear

Leaf-rattle, wind-swell,

A distant bird.

Just find me a place of rest, my dear,

And you will have my gratitude.