When I pay attention, glimpsing honey
bees assures me of apple trees, blossoms
and fruit, russeting’s sweet scent, uncanny
security of warm pie. Glancing some
SUV speeding past, I envision
our world without oil, parking lots piled high
with frames like rusted locusts’ husks, fission
of particles gorging our air. Your thigh
pressed against mine, I understand power
of mellow, gaze at your russet tone, soft
miracle of sun and body oil. Stir
me with your texture, love. Take me aloft.
Let your odor and flavor help create
an age where every move’s appropriate.
Roger Armbrust
January 3, 2010
