A Swarm Of Bees.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

inside a frame a boy puts some words
he does not know how to choose wisely
he plays his game and goes on without really knowing
what happens next

the words begin to move and argue with each other
some have become elves and pumpkins and they crowd inside the frame
unmanageable now
the words cross the borders of the frame and begin to grow transparent wings
flying away like a swarm of bees to the sky
and the little boy is left with nothing but the emptiness of the slate

when he grows to become a man
somewhere in the middle of his dying age
he understands what that childhood game is all about
it is about a momentary crowd, the gathering and the bothering
and then the wings and winds and wondering
until what is left is the emptiness which he knows well
as the synonym of what others have died of...

nothingness....all the bees go there.