Real ones
the fragile petals
after last night’s
wind and rain
thorns too,
rain racing
along stems
tough red hips all
that remain of
flowers so fragrant
days ago they lured
us from across the park
“busy bees, dad” finn said
“i wan watchem”
and i scooped him up
headed down the hill
where we hovered
like big nosy bees
so close we could hear
their little legs making
love to the sticky golden
stamen of the open flowers
so close we could feel the stillness
of our breath as we waited
for one electric amber jewel
to emerge from the button
of an unopened blossom.
Jonas Lamb 