BEES AND BOATS

i stretched out-
it was dead on that dusk hour
when 
the
day cars hum home to their ink blot drives
and
the
birds write their songs quietly for the morning

my legs-
finished 
numb 
and buzzing like power cables 
and
i say to mr catty - LORD ! 
IS THAT WHERE ALL THE BEES HAVE GONE ?
INSIDE MY LEGS ?

outside-
front doors clump-click the day over 
and
kids call the night to hurry and start
and
my
legs lie
so still
they may not be there at all

i drift on inner eddies-
model motor boats 
on 
the
shallow captured water of a small amusement park 
smell 
proudly of burnt diesel
and
bob and nod their tiny numbered flags

i remember the sun and sand in my socks
and
how
i
wanted
to
drive those boats so bad 
and
how i was disappointed when i did
at
their
immediate obvious limitations

from antiquetoyworld.com