Under the Flowering Pear

Just as the sun became too warm on her face,

a sudden breeze whispered relief,

strong enough to shake the bees from the tree

and the flowers they danced on.

As it stilled, she traveled back in time to days

that she believed she could convince the wind to play.

The moment her skin glistened again

she closed her eyes, asking her old friend for it's cool caress.

Seconds passed and she began to feel silly.

Occupied by the lost dream,

she didn't notice when her hair brushed her neck,

or when the tall grass grazed her feet,

or when the sailing pollen tickled her nose.

She only noticed because of the bees,

again blown from the tree, loud in union, work interrupted.

Still got it, she smiled to herself.