And electrons bat about in the air
Above the newly-seeded ground
All the air conditioners start up
At once with a loud thud
That settles into a calm drone
Bees are thick as traffic over there
I can’t tell which is which
In the blooming blue tree
What else do you want to hear
To get a picture of my plight
I won’t be coming home
I promised the sun I’d sit with it
Until it was done
And let it write this poem
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