Like bees.

Here we give

Two

Hands

To the 

World but

We’ve filled

Them full

With screaming

Children

And dirty floors

And sticky mirrors

And fresh cut grass

And holding other

Hands old

Enough to know 

Better.

I’ll go and 

Talk about Jesus

To someone

Who’s sitting

Back against

The flag pole

Once I find

The pacifier

To replace

The one 

I clumsily

Dropped

On the 

Floor.