Did you know that flowers
can hear?
That the shiver of bee wings
thrills the primrose
of Tel Aviv
as the vibrations rummage
around in their bowl-
shaped petals
tickling vein and hood
stigma and anther
under a vagrant moon?
That the anticipation of apiary
embrace instigates their pink
lust     causes a cascade
of nectar     a surge
of sweetness
amid the swelter
of a July day?
Flowers quiver
on windless afternoons—
the savvy bees
hover in delight
then tumble
into the depths
only to climb out later
gilded and glazed.
The next day they shed
the gilt glow
from their furry bodies
while concave flowers in another
pasture wait
for the susurration
of wings.