Plume Poem by Patricia Spears Jones

Bet your beeswax who said
Bet your beeswax what is
Beeswax -how did it arrive?

What moist hands dropped it where and oh how
Clever to drink from a cup made of bets
On beeswax, crop dusters, gramophones
Huge things with gears and bolts a century of
Forget-me-nots plucked and placed in books
Biblical in manner the colors flat -one day

Fade away like a plume of smoke pretty sight
The mustachioed man the pretty desperate woman
A song between them, ancient, hostile heard long
After the first singing. The payoff made in amber.