Be sure to check out her beautiful garden of images and words.
Tiny fingers in a fist, he’s my Japanese Honeysuckle, my invasive species. In his first spring, I skipped sidewalks in a trance from his vanilla-scented crown, his elliptical leaves said, “Come to me," and I was bound. Tongue to blossom, nectar released. But hunger resprouts vigorously. Hummingbirds flirt their eyelash wings, and at night, the mouth like a moth searches for an opening. Tongue to blossom, nectar released. Our first summer remains evergreen, even as Cardinals leave their droppings. Spotted sidewalks spread next year’s seeds, a fresh batch of Japanese Honeysuckles in their infancies.
©2023 | K. Hartless
GloPoWriMo #17: In the poem, try to make a specific comparison between some aspect of the plant’s lifespan and your own – or the life of someone close to you. Also, include at least one repeating phrase.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
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