Lucia Berger

Wild honeycomb lays underbrush,

Envisioning a life completely

Untouched.

Alone to itself, alone to its own,

Escaping the melody, rhythm and

Tone

Far from recognition,

Be reclusive, apart, was his

Mission.

but he lies

Desolate in the doldrums,

a. b. a. n. d. o. n. e. d.

But the music he needs,

Dying without the buzz of

Bees.

The groove restored, a brush revived,

Only the remnants of his loneliness will

Survive.