We climbed the oak in deep woods
to steal honey from the bee's hive,
sticky and cooling at dusk;
heavy in our cupped hands.
...
Stealing Honey
We climbed the oak in deep woods
to steal honey from the bee's hive,
sticky and cooling at dusk;
heavy in our cupped hands.
Yellow jackets slept on the ground.
The shed skin of a black snake
tangled itself
through
branch
and
leaf.
The bark was rough against our shins
on the high limbs.
Emerald leaves greeted stars
that knocked on evening.
The huge oak supported us;
allowing the heights we were climbing.
Your shirt-tail snagged on a twig.
We laughed at the sound
it made; such joy.
The orange moon busied itself
with night-chores in the violeting sky.
The tree-top swayed through the quickening dark,
sap coursing,
...then you resting in me.
Stacey Haislop