This tree flowers in winter,
in my month of birth:
a vision of profusion,
tufted waxen cylinders unfurl,
so drenched in nectar
that the bees fly drunkenly,
and honey-eaters sate themselves
and swoon, and bandy lorikeets
imbibe with shrieks of revelry,
and then go reeling on their way
like sailors on a spree.
Night after night,
beneath a cusp of moon,
the tree pours forth its essences,
prodigious and generous,
note after note,
a torrent of mute thanksgiving
and fragrant breath,
as if there's no tomorrow
and no prescience of death.
*Melaleuca Leucadenra -
Weeping Paperbark
Winter Nectar
© Copyright: Jena Woodhouse, 2005
Свидетельство о публикации №105072900858
Свидетельство о публикации №105072900858
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