Last Days

A lovely poem from student, colleague, and friend, Leslie Scott Harris. I deeply appreciate all of his BEES Garden inspired poetry, but this one in particular resonates with me at this moment in time.

Last Days

It’s cold now in December.
I remember tender things
like watching Mockingbirds assemble.
Every member sings.
Wishing it were still November
I’d engender what love brings
to mind, but I in turn dissemble
in the month of leafy rings.

Brooding in this barn red shed.
The harm that’s spread the Earth throughout
Has left me wanting for a wet
soft kiss to slake my heart in drought.

Now fugacious plants are dead.
I raise my head. The Crows are out.
A Hummingbird for epaulet.
I hope we figure this shit out.

-Leslie Scott Harris

Version 2
Barn Owl. Carrizo National Monument. March 2017.

 

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