Tiny petals.
Tiny petals that fly.
Tiny petals that fly away to the wishes buzzing on pollinated dreams.
Intersect the bee with the mother while the child cries.
Endless crying
All day the many pains of past lives remembered from a highchair.
Karma in a sippy cup
Nectar dripping from chins, across spoons, pooling to the floor.
Where little black ants will crawl.
Tiny antenna communicate waving like magic wands.
By the thousands they congregate to eat the dried salt of infant tears wept from reincarnation.
Can insects remember?
Can they feel the wheel,
Cranking
Time
And magic?
A food chain from soul to worm.
Freed in soil.
Tiny puddles
Tiny puddles that dry
Tiny puddles that dry away in a sunset slicing the day that age wrinkles and cracks across flesh and Earth.
Golden like a mirror inside,
A drop of honey in a bucket,
Lowered down from Heaven.
I put my sunglasses on
To gaze at its beauty.
Time passing over the horizon.
The ants will outlive us all.
Thanks for visiting.
Writing for the steemit #freewrite challenge by 
For more information:
https://steemit.com/freewrite/@mariannewest/day-99-5-minute-freewrite-friday-prompt-sunset
Original artwork and poetry
2018 Charles Denton