You don't fool me
with your honey,
your sticky resin,
your fallen pollen.

I see-through your

My svenne gradmother's
a beekeeper.

She has traveled around the world
three times with her honey stomach,
fanning the hive.

She taught me honey

I can live for days in the wilderness.

My color's clear, my aroma, too,
full of clover.

                  She would only harvest
a good kind of sweet.

© Tori Grant Welhouse