in the doorway; blindly
finding myself
in a place that I did
not find familiar.
the sunlight shouldn't
be in this place
and I feel more than taken
from what I remembered
as a comfort zone
hands wandering
my sides, feeling severed.
In the field outside
I could hear the bees
making conversation
amongst themselves
ignoring the world around
them, and wondered
if the bones scattered
throughout the wheat
had names, and if the faces
of the bees held the answers
to the questions they asked.
