2011 String Poet Prize 1st Runner-up
Homage to Emily Dickinson (xix)
In Foyers of tall daffodils—
dance ardent bees around.
They ring the door chimes—of the Spring—
with brisk, insistent Sound.
My wingless limbs—reluctantly—
in mid-air would be found.
Their feet are—not so willingly
confined to solid ground.
From garden path or country lane—
I watch them—at the blooms
waddle airborne door to door
I do not speak of—Time—to them.
They—buzz no thoughts to me.
We share Theology.