With the cries of the birds
Perhaps the honey-guide bird
I come across a flounce of red flowers
In a pearlescent dusk
The bees must have a name for it
Lazy-blowing fragrance
Of the carnation border
Or of the bean blossom
They must have a name for it too
In bee language
Honey flowers
Here and there
More and more
As the branch
Peeps over the garden wall
Until at length~
With a final kiss from the sun
Tiny fragranced flowers close
And night has come

 

 

 

 

 

5 responses

  1. This is a gentle poem Anne. I especially like the idea of the bees having a name for it. I would miss out ‘bird’ at the end of the second line, and also the line ‘With a final kiss from the sun’.

Leave a Reply