It Was the Holly
written by: C.M. Knight
Holly tree is full of honey not yet made
The bees have found their final autumn feast
White blossoms on the evergreen in shade
Their wings wild, churning toward east
I’ve seen the ending of their little lives
It’s hard not to think of them frozen and dropped away
But lives must end and so must mine one day
Red berries blossoming after the end of the breath in deepest winter
It was the holly
But still, it’s summer a little
Here in the back yard
And I sit in two sweaters hoping
For a little sunlight yet
Thick ice seen, thinner than ever
At the arctic reaches
And us, awaiting the breaking, at lower latitudes
The cold has always called me
North and South
To the ends and poles and silence
Patagonian Icelandic stones on my altar
What ancient atmospheres, trapped in bubbles for millennia, now released?
Will ancient air, ours mixed, make alchemy?
Will anyone be here to see it go?
Ours is the end of all the ice age, now see
The world transformed into a liquid flow
Honeybees on first October know
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