With the cries of the birds
Perhaps the honey-guide
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
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~ Tiny fragranced flowers close
And night has come

Leave a Reply