Poetic Pollen

I inhale yellow:
pollen dances on sunlight
inhabiting air.

Two geese overhead;
their wing beats stir the cherry
pink and freshly bloomed.

Pollen-dusted bees
zip in and out of flowers –
honeyed promises.

Kim M. Russell, 20th April 2019

My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Weekend Mini-Challenge, in April: Three Spring Shorts

Magaly asks: Do you ever do like a bee? Are you lured by the scent and colors and the wild loveliness of flowers? Do you talk to the green that grows in your yard or the park or the street or (if you’re very lucky) the nearby woods?

She hopes that we answer ‘yes’ to at least one of these questions because she would like us to write three micro-poems (in three lines or fewer) inspired by flowers.

Before I took these photographs this morning, I saw a bee hover past the window. I dashed outside into the morning dew, wellie-clad and armed with my camera, and distinctly heard a bee, but do you think it would show itself? And all the yellow flowers have already withered!

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21 thoughts on “Poetic Pollen

  1. Kim, these poems are a direct glimpse into the heart of your poetry–rich in imagery, clear continuity, and (at their very core) every poem tells a story. I can see the pollen dancing in the air before being inhaled, I can hear and see the play between white wings and delicately pink petals, and I’m convinced that bee was probably looking back at you… and just playing hide and buzz because it saw your camera *hehehe*.

    I love this whole post, especially knowing that you went outside to capture poetry for us to delight in. Thank you sooo much!

    Liked by 1 person

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