Sitting Too Close to the Flowers

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Leaves of morning glory
flutter their shade at me
blocking the protection
of melanin I seek.

I look up for the Sun
for its exact trajectory
in the August sky
but see instead
sheens of dancing
some-kind-of-willow
like bright fresh green
plastic against the sky
decorated by only one
thin stream lapping miles
behind the jet’s promise
of beaches and alcohol.

Purple stars of echinacea
hordes of rudebekia
eye me from the border
dance to music
of the giant trumpet vine
dare me to choose
between beauty
and lascivious tongues
of lemongrass
I grow for tea.

Small bees taste my skin
jerk away to find
their own business
in the lovely lavender
too close for safety.

Sitting too near the flowers
I know I’ll eventually
be stung – maybe twice
but the heart shaped leaves
have drawn me here –
I can bear the promise of pain.

About janemwoodman

Singer, writer, restaurant reviewer, urban farmer, devoted lover of my husband....old and getting happier all the time.
This entry was posted in Dogs, Birds and Other Joys, Free verse, Gardening, Gardening, Usually Organic, love, Poetry, Summer, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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