It's Still Life

Pastel Chalk and Yellow Bees

Never understood it,
how birds and bees
could do the sex thing.
Our teacher, who always
smelled of orange rinds,

she’d draw flowers with
pastel chalk, yellow bees
with fragile fairy wings.
And those pointy arrows,
tips piercing pink blossoms,

and connect grinning bees
with dots. Third grade
science — it was a fantasy.
It never happened that
way on my grandma’s farm.

Written for dVerse Poets: create a poem including the word Fantasy or Fantasia