Day By Day
?
A little eye not made by man,
all woman seem to have.
Available to none but honey bees.
Clinging to my window butterflies.
If only screens were made back then,
rewound beyond tomorrow's song.
Voices heard inside my head sing to me and say.
Honey sweet the bread was by me, made today.
e.d.
Copyright © James Mclain | Year Posted 2022
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