Saturday, January 15, 2022

Bee Fuchsia by Eamon Grennan

Bee Fuchsia

At the first brief lull
In terrible weather
Bees are back, each
Entering headfirst
The upside-down open
Nectar-heavy skirts
Of wet fuchsia flowers
And seeming to stay
Quite still in that laden
Inner space, only
The smallest shudder
Of the two together
When the bee-tongue
Unrolls and runs
Its tiny red carpet
Into the heart
Of what is no mystery
But the very vanishing
Point and live centre
Of the flower’s instant
Irrevocable unfolding,
Then stillness again
While this exchange
(Layer after layer of
Dusty goodness lipped,
Given) is taking place—
The flower flushed
And swelling a little,
The bee gently but
Hungrily clutching.

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