Cocoon

I knew the day would come that I just would not be feeling it. Actually, I do feel a bit under the weather. But I have done it. I have cut myself some slack though. Let’s just say it is a micropoem. But I have spent a bit of time at poetry practice nonetheless.

Cocoon

The world is a worry bead everyone is rubbing.

When did so many humans begin to yearn to immolate?

While others of my kind are spinning a silken case,

Awaiting the right time to unswathe

To flutter and create another kind of chaos.

Copyright Bee Smith 2018

Featured image by Suzanne D. Williams on unsplash.com

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