By Zachary Hinds

I dream of honeysuckles,
Who offer up cool respite
And such sweet, giggling nectar.

I yearn for honeysuckles,
Which grew at the perfect height
For a naive collector.

Where are my honeysuckles?
Marigold and yellow-white
With splashing water in the air.

I've lost those honeysuckles
With the passing of the night.
Their petals fade and flicker.

Forgotten honeysuckles.
Rotted, wilted, slain by blight
Such pathetic, sullen flowers.