Like Angels in Springtime

Like Angels in Springtime

Sometimes we may
get too close,
as beautiful
as anything
can be.
The smiles
in that
young girl’s eyes,
I really
love to see.
Plum blossoms
on a chilly tree,
covered by
hardworking bees.
The perfume’s fine,
and almost
brings us
to our knees.

That’s not
so bad.
Perhaps we
could spend
more time
down there,
thankful for
everything
that’s here.
Instead we
scheme and
cheat and
steal,
to get us
things that
are too real.
Things that
have no
feeling.

Angels in
springtime,
attracting bees
(working so hard,
just hear
them buzz).
One taxis
onto the runway
of my hand.
There I stand,
considering
if I’ll kill it
or, pay attention
to it walking
up my arm.
Pause.
That tiny
creature walks
around, and
safely flies
away.
Some new kind
of beauty,
I’d never
noticed
before.