This is the honey dance
of crystal and sap that happens
among fallen apples
bleeding out their gold
in fissures of slow-cooked wine,
revealing the way of the worm
in the red delicious.
Through all our vanishings a sweet
amrita flows, and one bee only
escapes, laden with vestiges of late
September, the stolen treasures
From my book, 'Savor Eternity'
Photo by Kristy Thompson