We The Busy Ones

we proclaim
we are the busy ones
they call us the
bees
we work all day
extending our arms and legs
to the night
we work till dawn
we too make love
we compose ourselves
arrange our faces
like flowers and leaves
and twigs
we work and work
till we find that
rest....

don't think of death

go find another date
gather the ripe dates
in the desert
have a big plate
savor the taste in your palate.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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