Honey Locust Invitation
Mid-May honey locust blossoms
From the tall stately tree
In our own front yard
Like an aphrodisiac to me
Like the Kama Sutra
Like entangled glyphs on ancient temple walls
Like ambrosia of the Greco-Roman gods
Like pharaohs given baths by kohl-eyed slave girls
Like Persian miniatures of sensuous beauties and minarets at sundown
Like furtive looks in hookah bars from eyes slightly stoned
Like aromatics from hole-in-the-wall shops in the Village
Like in bazaars where you fumbled with unfamiliar currency
Like an aura of perfume that encircles a woman
Like her tapestried sari as she breezes through Customs
Like incense sticks you bought in head shops when your head
Was smaller and less stuck with responsible thoughts
Like teenage memories of exotic World’s Fair pavilions
Like a silk scarf that lines a drawer where
You spilled a bottle of patchouli that time
Like that powder applied with the fine feathered brush
You bought in the soap shop no longer there
Like the henna hair and the senna leaf tea
That you tried when you lived up in the mountains by the sea
Like the secret musk of sheets after love making
Come outside
Come smell the honey locust with me
The tree so tall, its bark with deep creviced mysteries
The blossoms so far up
Stretch higher and higher till you catch a whiff
The blossoms falling like gentle white rain
Ephemeral
Caressing your face
I’ve waited all year for this day
The day of the honey locust blooms
Each morning, each afternoon, each evening
In misty rain, in sun, in darkness
I’ve waited patiently
Make a palette on the ground
Line our bed with its blossoms
Now
