Saturday, January 1, 2011

Second Chances

The bee was motionless, driven to the ground by January's chill breeze.  I placed my hand upon the cold mud of the riverbed and watched the tiny creature creep forward, drawn to the heat of my flesh. It clambered aboard and I lifted it into a slice of pale sunlight. It tasted me, carressed me with pointed antennae, explored the expanse of a finger. Soon the gossamer wings spread, shivered and buzzed. The bee darted away, returning to circle my head as if to share the excitement of a second chance.

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