These flowers,
whatever their Latin name,
grow on the boundary of Keira’s school.
They’re honey flowers,
she told me one day.
You suck the sweetness out.
Everyone does it.
She anticipated my objection
It’s not dangerous,
try it.
So I did,
one fine day in the holidays
when we were visiting the playground
I turned it over
plucked out the receptacle
and sucked the pollen
(or whatever the juice)
out of the end
Yes
There on the edge of my tongue
barely perceptible
a sweetness, wild and simple
She looked at me victoriously:
“Told you so.”
