Hawthorne
There must be a hundred thousand blossoms
Festooning my Washington Hawthorne trees,
And ten thousand bees buzzing around the blossoms,
A low rumbling buzz you can hear 50 feet away.
I planted these trees for the birds, food for the winter,
The red berries, beautiful to my eye—
And nutritious for the hungry birds of winter,
The sparrows, finches, chickadees, cardinals.
The birds will have their turn, but first the bees!
Pollinating, stirring the powder of life, fertilizing,
Co-creating with the sun, the rain, the tree,
And the Hand of God.
These trees please my eye, but not the nose,
The scent which seduces bees, repels me,
Reminds—
To the human eye or nose,
Creation is not always pretty!
Bob
Coughlin / June 13, 2017
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