Honeysuckle in winter means life
is winning somewhere beneath all the
sickening browns and grays, some place
Other Hemispheric such as Chile, let’s say.
Here, my eyes are glad for what color
they can gather from in between the drab,
dry leaves and twigs that seem to have
given up without going: the wasting way.
As for myself, I prefer the Way of the
Honeysuckle, the Way of Clinging—not a
desperate way, but the way of a bird with
some thread for her nest who won’t let go.