In the warm gold
of the late washington state summer
where the scent of
pine tree's, and salt water
teaming with flounder
we stepped on bee's
we the 60's children
we the offspring of those
who fought in the vetnam war
and returned home
to become flowerchildren.
Bare our small feet trampled
honeybee, and bumble
yellowjacket, and wasp
courage was the point
or pointless stupidity
perhaps like war...
and who was more wounded?
the communist bee about
his business?
Or the understanding feet
of children
who the next day
went to school fearing
bombs dropping from heaven
and sang the star spangled banner
thankfully time has a way
of covering all things
with night.

Timefire December 1st 12.30 p.m.