Saturday, April 21, 2012

dusk again

the bees, too, prefer the drunken aroma of springtime citrus
orange, lemon, grapefruit
they, too, get drunk on the delicate white kisses,
blooms unfolding in the evening air

please, God, You know where my heart is 
reveal my heart to me

I have been Tipsy 
waltzing with my Father 
hoping the current will pull me out a little farther

God gave them autopilot for evenings like this
(slow setting sun lush and almost shiftless)
their wings beat mechanical as the scent intoxicates
(belle notte)
they browse halflight drowsy

but, God, You know where my heart is and
something's buzzing below my collar bone 

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