Hive
       

She feels the tireless
bees of goodness
busy at work in her chest,
honey dripping from them
in slow sweet drops,
like it does from her
whenever kindness
is called for.

Drones maneuver
and tickle her
to work harder
at doing all the
right things, the
charities, the tender
tendings, the
offering of herself
like a yellow swarm
of sunlight.

She hears buzzing
with every
intake of breath,
knows they're dying
to get loose, worries
they'll swarm
next time she
nods her head, yes.

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Copyright © 2015 Eileen Moeller All rights reserved
from Firefly, Brightly Burning
Grayson Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission