She was the eldest of her profession,
yet pollen to inexperienced youth
searching among flowers.
Honey spilt empathy from her womb
to pour into the workers hive
buzzing with liberation
One by one warm day a swarm grew
in the fork of an old apple tree
rooted to a marbled grave.
The legend on the head stone cautioned
"Reine walked the streets alone.
She died giving her all to all.
If you've any comments on his poem, Tony Hunter would
be pleased to hear from you.