dead bees by Andy Eycott

a waft of warm air 

the trill of birdsong 

and I am lost in a drift 

of thought and cloud 

and blue, blue sky 

*

I follow paths not there 

in my youth yet they 

look seasoned, 

maybe time has got 

away from me, 

today, yesterday 

*

I notice a dead bee 

at my feet 

then another and another 

a line of dead bees 

scattered full stops, 

I sense summer is over 

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