Lavender Fields Forever

Through the low hum of bees
she wanders the fields of lavender
beyond the high-stemmed rows,
past purple corollas of pinecone 
flowers, in her tartan frock; pockets 
full of unanswered prayers─
with ladybugs scattered over opened
blooms and the white froth of spittle
bugs attached to unsuspecting 
leaves. Here you’ll find her
immersed in the foliage, drunk
on the lilac aroma of earth’s 
fragrant garden, where no one can 
see as she bends to her knees
in search of a wizard, the maestro 
of maestros, with unrequited 
wishes that dissolve in the wind
like the foam of an insect, preying
mouthparts piercing unknowing ears 

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