t..& honey~

a cup of fragrant tea.. steaming ~

and a plate piled up with very hot buttered toast,
bread...cut thick,very brown on both sides..
with the butter running through the holes in great golden drops,
like honey from the honeycomb...

talking in warm kitchens,
of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings,
of the honeyed sun that still lights the evenings.
of the air that has turned chilly..

of the sweet sound of the bees that are no longer audible...
comfort drips like honey ....
and life seems large enough to hold me..
this ..

honeyed loop....
large enough...

to wrap your soul..
textured like a honeycomb...

loose or wrapped..
surrounded ...quite comfortably so~

some things need no words

“Why do we embroider everything we say

with special emphasis

when all we really need to do

is simply say what

needs to be said?

Of course

the fact is

that there is very little that needs

to be said.”

Charles Bukowski



and ....



all that...



needs said....



right now...



is...


thank you,al~x