The bees have been busy gathering pollen from the blooms of the Queen Palm
to carry down the street to the neighbors.
The bees don’t seem to mind the long, hot summer.
They keep busy, even in the heat.
As for me, I’m waiting on a change . . .
a change in the weather,
a change of heart,
a change of mind.
And just when my dry old bones are about to snap and turn to eternal dust,
then comes the rain.