I smelt it yesterday in a viney hedge.
Today I see its blooms, white and yellow.
It pulls me into childhood, into memory.
So I pick a yellow one, squeeze its tip,
And pull gently, waiting for the drip.
Ah, honey dew! One perfect nectar!
When I was five, my brother
Whom I adored, showed me how
To harvest honeysuckle.
We spent a golden hour in the backyard
Sipping to our hearts' content.
I asked if we could fill a bucket
one drop at a time, and he said
technically, yes. Magic, I thought.
He lifted me on his shoulders and
I was taller than I'll ever be.
Neither of us learned the secret of the honeysuckle,
Neither gathered a bucket drop by drop.
I have lost that brother to the pain of life,
But today I tasted honey dew and remember him.
Bayboro, NC, 2024
copyright by the author
4 comments:
Oh MK, did your brother pass away recently? It's sad when siblings start to go; All three of my older brothers are gone now so that makes me the oldest ( with 2 much younger sisters).
Such a lovely poem! Can you really harvest Honeysuckle??? How????
I have it in my garden!
Thank you, Dear Mary Kathryn. What a loving and evocative poem.
Kezzie, pick a yellow blossom. Pinch it carefully on the tip of its base. Pinch through the outer blossom, but be sure not to sever the little stem inside. Then slowly pull the stem out, and just before the other end comes all the way out, a tiny drop of nectar will appear. Hold the blossom and stem together at your mouth, and lick the honey dew. Such a magical, childlike thing to do!
Granny M, there are many ways to lose those we love, I'm sad to say.
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