Flower to flower
tramping, finding her own feet,
young bee loves her life.
Bee
Ageing
Those tiny grey hairs;
ancient ferns, shrivelling fronds,
gracefully ageing
Shiny
Shining down on me,
tiny diamond in the sky
nestled among trees.
Judgement
I clamber uphill;
raising judgmental eyebrows,
rolling their eyes—trees
Home
We bicker for Mars,
fawn over the red planet;
sun kissed land is here.
