Honey

We said things like

forever and always

under star studded darkness.

That was before

winter. It was before

the black bear began to lope

towards hibernation, slipping

into a deep slumber

out of necessity for warmth, knowing

the days would once

again lengthen. I

am watching them shorten

like she did. I

am taking inspiration from the bees,

keeping my mind on my work,

hoping that if I

notice this honey, you’ll

return when she does. You’ll

wake up and come looking

for what we began before

the frost occurred, before

the crimson leaves fell, before

the heavy rains, when our love

was something to be savored. But

the seasons have already

passed and even the shoots that push

through the dark

soil are not the ones from before.

So I ask –

will you let go

and let yourself too be reborn?