I am invisable

The rose on the Turnkey metro. How the old woman gave it to you and then you carried it past all the sad eyed missing persons. How you gifted it to a young girl at the final stop. 

Where the orange kite 

with a long tail in the blue sky above a small city 

near dark green hills leading to mountains. 

Yes, this particular kite's long string is being held by a young girl. 

She is happy. She is free to fly her kite and appreciate it's color, feeling the pull, the tension in her small hand as the wind holds her kite. She plays it out. Letting it flow naturally. 

Where the sunflower's iridescent radial purity, this center, spiral. Where the hungry bee flexes its rear feeding inside stamen's nourishment - yellow petals, strong growing green stalk from dry parched earth

where deep roots grow beneath the surface in damp dark secret soil

this frenetic bee, orange and black pulsating life, stamen and pistol end to end beginning this moment, this 

sunflower receiving sunlight, all this light, all this

quick clear shadow

a butterfly