Honeysuckle

The scent of honeysuckle turns my head
I search for its source
Flowers of yellow white, jewels in the dew
Rest on the fence

I reach out, back to my youth
Gathering a bloom with the hands of
The child I used to be

My heart swells in the wonder of nectar
Tasting its sweetness, I take my place
With the bee and hummingbird

Returning to the house
Life’s decades overtake me
Drape their cloak of age onto my shoulders

I startle in realizing the wrinkled hands
Putting the honeysuckle into a jar with water
Are mine

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Poem #3 for NaPoWriMo and April Poetry Month.