| InterBoard Poetry Competition | |
FOR COYOTE, A REFLECTION
Myra South
(Café Utne)
So as the honey maker stops
atop the bloom
for just a moment
milking each drop of prism color
into the nectar she will brew,
so do we all alight
for a sweet span
between clouds
to create
what honey we can
hanging onto
our fuzzy lives
in hopes of feeding those
that come after us --
the buzzing
generations.
We are such
devoted
fleeting thieves
in search of one more
petaled jewel
to carry home
sun light gems --
we adorn crowns
with flower candy
for the mothers
dancing home again
humming between blooms.
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