Lonicera sempervirens
My grandma would have laden her garden with their bursting
pink blossoms. Clusters of falling stars, dripping with nectar,
drawing hummingbirds to trumpeted straws to sip sweet marrow.
She wouldn’t have minded their creeping presence on walls
and trellises, a feast for eyes and feathered friends, adorning
the spring with dainty coral jewels and welcoming the summer
with sweet red berries, a gift of energy for hard-working
bird mothers as they hunted for bugs in loam and clay.
Had she known of these coastal beauties, she would have
welcomed them, basking in their generosity as they nestled
between her sweet bubby bush and blossoming hydrangea.
