Late Honey
I'm sitting outside in the garden
on a warm evening
lit by the fading sun
and nearly-full moon.
There's almost no sound
except for a hopeful wind
and cicadas in the grass,
and tinnitis behind my ears
from the old neck injury.
Within that inner noise I hear
a phone call and an evening bee,
and just now a hummingbird buzzed me
because of my pink blouse
and because behind me the window
holds the garden's reflection--
white dahlias and daisies--
as it looks at itself within
the darkening glass
and my darker interior.
© 2010 Nellie Hill. All rights reserved
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