Colin F. Jones


Only life can die,
Though that which makes it
Can wither slowly;
Was it the robin…
Or the raven I killed?
Both close their eyes,
In my presence.
Though tis only me
Who feels the pain,
I wonder if they know that
I’d like to be the honey,
But I’m the bee.
I try; but even
Old soldiers take offense;
Tis lonely in this empty hive.