it appears out of nowhere
and even if I guess it
or not
I pretend to be too clever
to water its roots
with lacy butterflies of hope
too busy, too awake
to walk the walk of dreams
daily surrendered to dawn
like freedom
by caught and trialed killers
and when it stings
like a bee that knows all about
honey
all about petals and fate
it feels grateful and peaceful and forever
lost
it appears out of nowhere
it floats
and the blood carries it everywhere
obeying its deep undisputed route
to the heart
where some day
you may turn
a London bus
