leaves of clover (Free verse) by lmp
cut blades fly gyroscopically
inside the thrumming steel hull.
i walk behind half-conscious
as my mind begins to mull...
a story of a farmer who
because he loved his bees,
decided to plant his fields
with what many consider weeds.
the golden clover honey
brewed by pollinators' labor
brought the farmer a bit of profit
with its sweet and delicate flavor.
the farmer would often say
"when i go it would really please
me to meet my maker as i lay
among the bees in clover leaves."
we hear it said to be unwise
to dwell upon these morbid themes.
we never know when our eyes
will be forever lost to dreams.
then it happened one summer morn:
his rusted truck bumped around
the potholed exit from the highway
and suddenly rolled upside down.
the crates in the pickup's bed
loosed the jars full of nect'r
upon the farmer's flailing form
as he was flung from the wreck.
he lay peacefully upon the grass,
covered in the work of bees
and smiled wryly as his life fled.
his open eyes now would not see:
that as he lay in the cloverleaf
among the bees, his fields were dower'd.
and in those fields the bees drone on
collecting pollen from clover flowers.
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